Democracy’s slow-and-stable safeguards are features, not bugs.
Silicon Valley’s defining mantra – “move fast and break things” – emerged from Facebook’s early culture, celebrating rapid iteration, aggressive risk-taking, and a willingness to disrupt in the name of innovation. It revolutionised tech, enabling energetic start-ups with fresh ideas to topple established giants who had grown stale and stodgy.
But in politics, this philosophy becomes dangerous. Democratic governance depends not on disruption, but on deliberation, accountability, and public trust. When leaders adopt tech-style speed over constitutional safeguards, it doesn’t eliminate inefficiency, it damages the very foundations of democracy.
Two striking examples this month show why: the Trump–Musk bust-up in the US, and the internal chaos of Reform UK here in Britain. Both reveal what happens when politics is treated like a startup: institutions falter, consensus collapses, and the public pays the price.
The Trump–Musk meltdown: when billionaire egos collide
Across the Atlantic, the high-profile alliance between Donald Trump and Elon Musk – hailed by the MAGA crowd as a desirable fusion of political power and tech innovation – imploded spectacularly just 130 days in. Musk, who had donated nearly $300 million to Trump’s campaign and headed the now-infamous brain-fart of an idea, “The Department of Government Efficiency” (DOGE), quit after denouncing Trump’s tax-and-spend agenda as a “disgusting abomination.”
What followed wasn’t sober policy debate – it was performative ‘willy waving’ of the worst kind. Trump threatened to cancel Musk’s government contracts. Musk claimed Trump would’ve lost the election without him, that the reason Trump hadn’t released the Epstein files was because he was in them, and that he would immediately start decommissioning the Space X programme (now all-but essential to the US’s ambitions in space).
This wasn’t about ideology. It was the logical consequence of two men – each used to commanding unchallenged domains – proving unable to operate in a system built on compromise and public accountability. While they waged personal war, Americans were left wondering what it meant for their jobs, healthcare, and household budgets. And Tesla stock collapsed by $150 billion, wiping out pensions and retirement savings as collateral damage in a very public ego brawl.
Reform UK’s revolving door of dysfunction
Meanwhile, over this side of the Atlantic, Reform UK offered its own warning sign that they too see Democracy as a plaything, not a basis of government. During her first-ever Prime Minister’s Questions, new MP Sarah Pochin chose not to press the government on housing or healthcare, but instead called for a ban on the burqa.
The impact here too was immediate. Reform scrambled to clarify that this was not party policy. Within hours, party chairman Zia Yusuf, a Muslim businessman, resigned in protest, only to un-resign two days later, citing exhaustion. The drama left supporters baffled and opponents gleeful…and nothing productive achieved.
But this wasn’t just a PR mess. It showed how a party obsessed with disruption struggles to function. Pochin’s question wasn’t rooted in constituent need or thoughtful policy. It was a media stunt. The reversal from Yusuf revealed a party so directionless it couldn’t even agree on what it stood for. And all the while, the real problems facing voters in Runcorn and Helsby – rising bills, strained public service – went entirely unaddressed.
Why Disruption Fails in a Democracy
The “move fast and break things” mindset makes sense in tech, where failures can be patched and products re-launched. But democratic governance is not a beta test. Its systems are designed for stability and public inclusion, because the stakes are real.
First, democracy depends on trust and predictability. Families need confidence that public services they rely on won’t be upended overnight. Small businesses need stable policy to plan. Pensioners need to know their only source of income will be safe from day to day. In politics, reckless disruption isn’t creative, it’s destructive.
Second, deliberation isn’t a flaw; it’s a feature. Democratic systems are slow because they’re built to include everyone, especially those without obvious power. Silicon Valley treats friction as inefficiency. But in democracy, friction is how a nurse’s voice, and a teacher’s, and a pensioner’s, is heard alongside those of the raft of CEOs with regular access to those in power.
Third, failure in tech means a hit for investors. In politics, it means lives disrupted. When policies are rushed, it’s not just the rich who lose a few quid. It’s working families who lose support. It’s students who lose opportunity. It’s pensioners who lose security. Society suffers.
The authoritarian drift
This kind of unchecked speed breeds executive overreach. When leaders see rules as red tape, they begin bypassing them. Whether it’s Trump threatening contractors or Reform bypassing internal procedures, the interests of ordinary people are ignored. Spectacle replaces substance. Media stunts like Pochin’s burqa question generate heat, not light.
It also empowers charismatic strongmen. It’s obvious to anyone paying attention that Trump and Farage run top-down operations with little room for dissent. Like many tech CEOs, they treat consultation as an obstacle. But democracy is not a one-man brand, it is a collective enterprise, rooted in shared accountability.
When leaders serve themselves, not the people
This is the real danger. Speed culture shifts power upwards, to those who can act quickly, spend fast, and dodge scrutiny. It sidelines those without insider access. That’s one of the main reasons why public trust is collapsing: people see politics serving ambition, not the public good. Meaningful democracy is slow because it must be. Voters need time to understand how policies will impact their lives.
The more governance imitates tech disruption, the more it excludes the people it’s supposed to serve.
Democracy isn’t a startup
The antidote to the chaos of modern life isn’t more speed. It’s returning to the hard, patient work of democracy…public consultation, transparent decision-making, and shared power. It’s not a perfect answer but it’s the only way ordinary people get a real say (and, as Churchill said, it’s better than all the alternatives).
We need to stop mistaking efficiency for justice. Democracy will never be as fast as an app update…nor should it be. It was designed to protect us not from slowness, but from the whims of elites who think rules are for other people.
The next time someone promises to “cut through red tape” and “deliver real change,” ask: change for whom? At what cost? And who will pay the price?
Because when leaders move fast and break things, it’s rarely THEIR lives that get broken.
We are very grateful to Open Britain for allowing us to reproduce this article and it is typical of their ethos that they are happy to do so. Please subscribe to us and to Ugly Politix. We share the same values and aims.
Open Britain established the Ugly Politix channel to provide ordinary people with the information and perspective they need to pick their way past these Farage traps, part of our wider work to build a politics that genuinely works for everyone, not just those with the most money or the loudest voices in the media.
If you haven’t subscribed already, please consider doing so – it’s free!. (UGLY POLITIX subscriptions are free because, like West Country Voices, the creators don’t believe democracy should ever be behind a paywall. Voluntary paid subscriptions ARE available for those who wish to help them grow the channel, but they are precisely that…voluntary.)