Do Industry Leaders Make Good Heads of State?
- Shane Warren
- Sep 24
- 10 min read
Spoiler: History suggests, rarely.
The Seductive Fantasy of the CEO-President
Every few years, a chorus emerges: “What if we ran government like a business?” The logic feels neat and tidy. CEOs cut costs, strike deals, and whip teams into shape. Surely, they could do the same with a nation-state.
But here’s the blunt truth: nations aren’t corporations, and citizens aren’t employees. The fantasy of the CEO-president isn’t about efficiency, it’s about psychology - the yearning for a strongman to cut through chaos and tell us who to blame when things go wrong.
Why Business Logic Crashes in Political Reality
Business leaders succeed in environments where they hold control with a boardroom, a balance sheet, a staff that can be fired for underperformance. Politics? It’s an entirely different beast. You can’t sack the electorate. You can’t bulldoze parliament (well, not legally). You can’t simply pivot strategy without negotiation.
Adam Grant describes the problem as “achievement striving”: high performers setting bold goals and pushing relentlessly until they break through obstacles.^1 In politics, those obstacles are guardrails of democracy - constitutions, courts, oppositions, media scrutiny. Break through them and you’re not a leader; you’re an autocrat.
This is why so many industry leaders in high office either stall, stumble, or self-destruct.
American Case Studies: The Dream Meets the Wall
Before Trump the US has had other industry leader success stories enter the White House…
Herbert Hoover (President 1929–1933)
Before he was president, Herbert Hoover was the embodiment of the American business dream. Born poor in Iowa, he rose to prominence as a self-made mining magnate, running international operations with ruthless efficiency. His career was marked by a reputation for problem-solving: he engineered dams, organised global relief after World War I, and was dubbed the “Great Humanitarian.” By the time he entered politics, Hoover was seen as a corporate saviour with a conscience, the kind of person who could surely steer a country with the same success he’d shown in business.
As president, Hoover approached the economy as he did his mines: with precision, cost discipline, and an engineer’s faith in efficiency. When the stock market collapsed in 1929, he was convinced America could weather the storm without massive government intervention. To Hoover, balancing the federal budget was sacrosanct, and direct relief to citizens looked dangerously like “dependency.” He encouraged volunteerism, charity, and local initiatives, but refused to break with laissez-faire orthodoxy.
This rigid adherence to business logic proved catastrophic. As unemployment soared to 25% and banks collapsed, Hoover vetoed relief bills, delayed public works, and shunned deficit spending. Where a CEO might demand austerity to protect shareholders, a head of state needed to protect citizens. Hoover’s inability, or unwillingness, to adapt left millions destitute. “Hoovervilles,” the shantytowns of homeless families that sprang up across America, became a haunting symbol of his presidency.
Historians often note Hoover wasn’t heartless, he truly believed discipline and self-reliance would restore prosperity. But in politics, intent matters less than outcome. His business discipline became political cruelty in the eyes of the public. By the 1932 election, Franklin Roosevelt’s promise of a “New Deal” crushed Hoover in a landslide.
Verdict: Hoover stands as the archetypal warning: a brilliant businessman, a gifted organiser, even a humanitarian by instinct but utterly unsuited to the compromises and compassionate flexibility required of political leadership. His failure reminds us that managing a balance sheet and managing a nation are fundamentally different enterprises.
Jimmy Carter (President 1977–1981)
Jimmy Carter came to politics not just as a peanut farmer but as a successful agribusinessman. After taking over his family’s failing peanut farm, Carter modernised operations, expanded distribution, and turned it into a profitable enterprise. This experience gave him a reputation for integrity and hard work… the outsider businessman who could clean up Washington.
Once in office, Carter applied the same meticulous habits that had served him in farming and local politics. He studied issues obsessively, micromanaged decisions, and tried to personally control details that presidents normally delegate. This intensity won him early wins: deregulation of airlines and trucking, energy reforms, and the Camp David Accords that brought peace between Israel and Egypt.
But the same business discipline that had powered his farm became a liability in the White House. Inflation soared to 13%, interest rates spiked, and an energy crisis left Americans queueing for petrol. The Iran hostage crisis dragged on for 444 days, humiliating the nation and consuming his presidency. Carter’s detail-oriented micromanagement alienated Congress and his own staff, leaving him isolated at the very moment when broader coalition-building was essential.
By 1980, his approval ratings collapsed to 28%, and Ronald Reagan swept him aside with a promise of optimism and strength.
Verdict: Carter remains an anomaly, a businessman whose personal integrity is widely admired, and who has since been celebrated as a model ex-president. Yet as a head of state, his business-style micromanagement turned to overreach, his obsession with details became paralysis, and his moral clarity often lacked the political dexterity to deliver results.
Donald Trump (President 2017–2021, re-elected 2024)
Donald Trump was the business mogul as celebrity - real estate, casinos, and hotels mixed with the glitz of television and the persona of a dealmaker. Unlike Hoover or Carter, Trump’s business empire was as much about branding and bravado as it was about balance sheets. His pitch to voters was simple: “I’ll run America like one of my companies. I’ll make deals. I’ll win. You’ll get rich.”
In his first term, Trump did push through policies consistent with a corporate CEO: tax cuts for businesses, deregulation, and trade wars meant to pressure rivals. Unemployment hit record lows pre-COVID, and bipartisan criminal justice reform was a genuine achievement. His supporters saw him as decisive, willing to fire critics and challenge convention.
But Trump also treated government like his boardroom: loyalty above competence, institutions as enemies, and truth as flexible marketing. Scandals piled up - two impeachments, Russia investigations, January 6th, and a chaotic pandemic response that left over 400,000 Americans dead by the end of his first term. His management style which tends to be impulsive, transactional, hostile to dissent, deepened polarization.
Re-elected in 2024, Trump leaned harder into authoritarian instincts, reshaping regulations under the influence of billionaire allies like Elon Musk and pushing tariffs that unsettled global trade. The results remain contested, but the damage to institutional trust is undeniable.
Verdict: Trump exemplifies the CEO-president fantasy in its purest form: bold, decisive, unafraid of convention. And yet, his business instincts firing critics, gutting oversight, rewarding loyalty over expertise has hollowed out the very institutions that sustain democracy. For his followers, he embodies strength; for the rest, he embodies the danger of confusing a boardroom strongman with a head of state.
The Global Stage: Tycoons at the Helm
The USA is not alone in the attraction of a CEO Head of State, lets explore some others…
Silvio Berlusconi (Italy)
Silvio Berlusconi built a media empire from construction roots, owned AC Milan football club, and flaunted his status as one of Europe’s richest men. To many Italians in the 1990s, he embodied modern success: brash, independent, untouchable. His pitch was clear: as a businessman who “got things done,” he would drag Italy out of corruption and stagnation.
As Prime Minister across three non-consecutive terms, Berlusconi did deliver certain short-term boosts. He slashed taxes, deregulated markets, and leveraged his media holdings to craft a narrative of revival. Yet behind the scenes, Italy’s debt ballooned, scandals erupted over alleged mafia ties, and his infamous “bunga bunga” sex parties made him a global punchline.
More damaging than the tabloid fodder was his impact on institutions: Berlusconi blurred the lines between public office and private interest, using politics to protect his businesses and vice versa. By the time he was ousted during the Eurozone crisis, Italy’s credibility had sunk.
Verdict: Berlusconi shows how business charisma can get you elected and how personal enrichment, ethical rot, and theatrical leadership can leave a nation weaker than you found it.
Thaksin Shinawatra (Thailand)
Thaksin Shinawatra rose from telecommunications tycoon to Thailand’s most dominant political figure in decades. His populist “Thaksinomics” poured money into rural development, introduced universal healthcare, and lifted millions out of poverty. For a time, it worked: GDP grew, inequality narrowed, and Thaksin was hailed as a champion of the people.
But business habits die hard. Thaksin used political office to protect his companies, handed lucrative contracts to allies, and dodged billions in taxes. When challenged, he doubled down on strongman tactics by suppressing critics, intimidating media, and centralising control.
In 2006, a military coup ousted him, citing corruption and abuse of power. From exile, he continued to influence Thai politics through family proxies, creating years of instability.
Verdict: Thaksin demonstrates both the allure and the danger of the CEO-leader: transformative economic reforms paired with authoritarian instincts that destabilised democracy.
Andrej Babiš (Czech Republic)
Babiš, a billionaire agro-chemical magnate, entered politics on an anti-corruption platform. Voters weary of graft saw him as the outsider who could fix the system. His party, ANO, swept into power in 2017.
Early on, Babiš used EU subsidies and domestic programs to stabilise the economy, cushioning households during COVID. Yet EU auditors soon found he had funnelled subsidies into his own conglomerate; the very corruption he had pledged to end. Protests erupted, opposition parties coalesced, and by 2021, he was out of office and under investigation.
Verdict: Babiš is the classic CEO-turned-politician who treats the state as an extension of his company: efficient in parts but riddled with conflicts of interest that corrode trust.
Sebastián Piñera (Chile)
Piñera made his fortune in banking and airlines before twice serving as Chile’s president. His first term was marked by competent crisis management: leading recovery after the 2010 earthquake and expanding pensions. Economic growth hovered at 5%.
But in his second term, Piñera ignored deepening inequality. When metro fares rose in 2019, protests exploded into a national crisis, with over a million Chileans on the streets demanding reform. His approval plummeted to 10%.
Verdict: Piñera shows how a CEO’s efficiency can deliver short-term stability, but how blindness to social fabric undermines even strong economic performance.
Lee Myung-bak (South Korea)
Lee Myung-bak’s story was mythic: a dishwasher turned Hyundai CEO, then Seoul mayor, then president. His “747 Plan” promised 7% growth and $47,000 per capita income.
As president, he invested in infrastructure, restored Seoul’s Cheonggyecheon stream, and balanced relations between the US and China. South Korea’s economy remained steady, even during global turbulence.
But Lee’s business instincts led him into scandal. He and his family were later convicted of embezzlement and bribery, tarnishing his achievements.
Verdict: Lee remains one of the better examples of a business leader in politics - competent, pragmatic, but ultimately undone by the very corruption temptations that plague tycoon-presidents.
The Australian Experience: A Mixed Ledger
Malcolm Turnbull (Prime Minister 2015–2018)
Turnbull, a Rhodes Scholar turned investment banker, had long been touted as one of the brightest minds in Australian politics. His wealth from banking and tech gave him independence, and his charisma gave him broad public appeal.
As Prime Minister, he legalised same-sex marriage and launched the Banking Royal Commission. But his corporate decisiveness faltered against party-room tribalism. His energy reforms fractured the Liberal Party, and his prime ministership ended in an internal coup.
Verdict: Turnbull exemplifies how business acumen and intellect mean little when party politics demands loyalty, compromise, and ideological conformity.
Mike Baird (NSW Premier 2014–2017)
Before politics, Baird worked as a banker. As Premier, he pursued privatisation and lockout laws with technocratic zeal. For a time, he was popular - the “nice guy” banker who projected competence.
But politics is not banking. His lockout laws angered Sydney’s nightlife, his privatisation agenda alienated voters, and his resignation came abruptly, citing family and personal reasons.
Verdict: Baird shows how a business mindset can manage budgets but alienate communities, a reminder that governance requires more than balance sheets.
Clive Palmer (Mining magnate, Palmer United Party)
Palmer is the tycoon as showman. With billions in mining, he launched a political party, plastered his face across billboards, and flooded the media with advertising. For a time, he won seats and disrupted parliament.
But Palmer treated politics like a hobby; noisy, expensive, unserious. His MPs defected, his party collapsed, and his influence shrank to the occasional election-time advertising blitz.
Verdict: Palmer proves that money can buy attention but not political durability. His brand of CEO-politics is spectacle, not substance.
Tim Fischer (Deputy Prime Minister 1996–1999)
Fischer was not a corporate mogul but a farmer and small businessman. His leadership of the National Party, and later as Deputy PM, was marked by pragmatism and humility.
Most notably, Fischer helped John Howard’s government pass the landmark gun reforms after the Port Arthur massacre. What was in the moment a deeply unpopular stance in his constituency, but one he carried with honesty and conviction. It is widely recognised without Tim Fischer the gun law reforms may well not have been accepted so well within the broader Australian community.
Verdict: Fischer proves that a background in business when rooted in land, community, and patience can produce grounded, principled political leadership.
Malcolm Fraser (Prime Minister 1975–1983)
Fraser came from a wealthy grazing family and brought that sensibility into politics. As PM, he steered Australia through turbulent times, strengthening the US alliance while surprising conservatives by supporting multiculturalism, Vietnamese refugee resettlement, and Indigenous rights.
Though his rise was controversial (installed after the dismissal of Gough Whitlam), his prime ministership has since been remembered more kindly for its steady hand and social conscience.
Verdict: Fraser shows that business and agricultural wealth need not dictate narrow interests, sometimes it can provide the security to lead with surprising humanity.
Sidebar: The Near Misses
Ross Perot (US): Tech billionaire whose 1992 and 1996 presidential runs shook the system but never broke through. His outsider CEO image attracted millions but revealed the limits of a boardroom pitch in national politics.
Gina Rinehart (Australia): Mining magnate with enormous political influence behind the scenes, but her attempts to flirt with public politics were met with resistance. Her wealth could sway debate, but her style never translated into genuine electoral appeal.
James Dyson (UK): The vacuum mogul who dabbled in Brexit politics but retreated when confronted with the grind of parliamentary reality.
Clive Palmer (Australia): While included above as a case study, he also sits comfortably among the near misses - a man with deep pockets but shallow staying power.
So, Do They Make Good Leaders?
The global record says no. Industry leaders bring economic tweaks, short-term growth, or flashy reforms. But politics is not about maximising shareholder value; it’s about weaving messy coalitions, protecting institutions, and carrying the human weight of leadership.
Australia’s experience adds nuance: while corporate types like Turnbull, Baird, and Palmer stumbled, agricultural business figures like Fischer and Fraser show that some industry backgrounds , especially those rooted in land, community, and patience, can translate into effective leadership.
The question isn’t whether business leaders make good politicians. It’s whether they can leave the CEO mindset at the door. Few can.
If you want to run a nation like a company, be prepared for the quarterly profits of populism and the long-term bankruptcy of democracy.
Footnotes
Adam Grant, Give and Take (2013), on “achievement striving.”
Political Science Quarterly (2023): “Billionaires in Office: Electoral Rates and Governance Outcomes.”
Brookings Institute (2024): “Democracy and Long-Term Economic Growth.”
UC San Diego (2024): “Authoritarian Populism in the 2020s.”
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