Original article: Gobernar no es manejar una empresa: Lincolao queda atrapada entre sociedades omitidas, despidos masivos y crisis en Ciencia Ximena Lincolao joined José Kast’s cabinet as part of the new administration’s promise of swift management, bolstered by her international background, technological expertise, and business successes. However, reality has caught up with her. Within weeks, the Minister of Science found herself embroiled in a crisis characterized by omitted societies, half-hearted explanations, student protests, the resignation of her undersecretary, and allegations of mass layoffs within her ministry.
This issue has evolved beyond a mere isolated incident. Lincolao’s situation increasingly reflects the broader challenges facing Kast’s administration: a lot of talk about efficient management and promises of order, yet a governance style that gets tangled in the complexities of transparency, labor relations, institutions, and public policy. In other words: governing is not the same as running a business.
A ministry is not a private office where buttons can be pressed to hasten processes, or where cuts are made without political or human costs. In government, there are rules, teams, labor rights, institutional continuity, and public accountability. This distinction appears central to the crisis in Science.
Crisis in Science: Omitted Societies Open the First Front The first blow struck at the integrity of her administration. Fast Check revealed that Lincolao failed to disclose at least three entities in her Declaration of Interests and Wealth: Innova Nehuén SpA, a family business; Tech Apprenticeships LLC, a tech entity established in the United States; and a homeowners association in Virginia (USA), where the Secretary of State has her main residence. Lincolao attempted to explain the situation during a phone conversation with the media.
Reportedly, she did not refute the core of the report, claiming that Innova Nehuén dissolved after her entry into government, and she offered to provide “screenshots” to support that claim, but those documents never arrived (at least not by the time this article was published), and, by the conclusion of the investigation, there were no public records confirming its dissolution. The issue is not whether an official can hold wealth, businesses, or interests in private entities. The crux is that when someone takes a government position, they must fully disclose their interests.
Not out of goodwill, but because the public has the right to know if there are potential conflicts of interest. Public trust is not declared; it is demonstrated. During that conversation, Lincolao made a statement that opened another front: “Other ministers told me they didn’t disclose such things.
” She did not specify whom she was referring to. However, this comment does little to quell the controversy; rather, it raises further doubts about the transparency standards within Kast’s cabinet. Araos, Layoffs, and the Discomforting Narrative for Lincolao The second facet emerged with the resignation of Rafael Araos from the Undersecretariat of Science.
At first, it might have seemed like just another resignation in the early wave of departures from the administration. However, Araos broke silence and confirmed that his exit was tied to a directive to design and implement a mass layoff plan. In messages sent to CHV, Araos stated: “I can confirm through this medium that the directive to design and execute a mass layoffs plan is real, and there are witnesses.
Moreover, why would I or others invent something so grotesque? ” This statement directly contradicts Lincolao’s version. The minister had denied any such instruction existed.
“The claim that there’s a list of forty people set to be let go is false. That list does not exist,” she asserted in comments reported by Emol. She also downplayed the exit of personnel alongside the ex-subsecretary.
“It’s also not true that he left with many people who followed him. He left with just two: the chief of staff he arrived with and a lawyer he brought in. Ultimately, he left with the two people he came in with,” she remarked.
However, Araos did not frame the conflict as a mere administrative disagreement. He described it as a deeper rupture: “Was that the only reason I resigned? No, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
What camel? Profound differences in substance and style concerning how to address the same challenge. ” That’s a political detail.
If a technical undersecretary resigns amid a dispute over mass layoffs, the crisis transcends personal issues. It becomes a signal of how the government’s heavy-handed approach begins to crack the very fabric of the state apparatus. “In the U.
S. , There’s Another Pace”: The Phrase That Explains the Problem Lincolao also provided a clue to understanding her leadership style. “I come from a different party.
In the U. S. , there’s another pace, and with it, there were differences in style and work,” she noted.
She added: “I come from a world where, when changes are needed, it’s better to implement them quickly. ” This statement must be read in its entirety and carefully. It’s not about caricaturing the minister because she developed part of her career outside of Chile.
The issue lies elsewhere: she uses her experience in the United States as a justification for her method of working. Speed, quick changes, executive style. That may sound appealing in the business world.
However, in a ministry, that logic has its limitations. Public decisions do not merely affect a balance sheet; they impact workers, long-term policies, institutions, universities, research centers, and scientific communities. This is why her phrase is so insightful.
Not because Lincolao “comes from the outside,” but because it reveals the clash between a fast-paced management culture and a government that demands dialogue, procedure, transparency, and political accountability. What can be marketed as efficiency in a corporation may translate into overreach, improvisation, or institutional crises in the public sector. Student Background and Lack of Political Acumen Lincolao has been under scrutiny since the incident at the Universidad Austral, tied to student protests.
This event was crucial as it early on showcased her difficulty in navigating sensitive spaces: universities, science, mobilized youth, and academic communities. In a portfolio like Science, legitimacy is not built solely through credentials or innovation speeches. It is constructed through dialogue, respect for communities, and an understanding of the public ecosystem being managed.
Without this, technicality turns cold, vertical, and clumsy. Kast’s Technical Narrative Begins to Crumble The crisis in Science strikes the administration precisely where it sought to excel. Kast branded his cabinet as a technical force capable of organizing the country, improving management, and replacing politics with efficiency.
But the Lincolao case reveals the flip side of this promise: a high-profile technical authority can quickly become a political problem if they do not grasp the rules of governance. Omitted societies, incomplete explanations, “screenshots” that never arrive, a resignation of the undersecretary, allegations of mass layoffs, and internal tensions. All within a ministry that should represent the future, knowledge, and public capability.
This is the major blow for La Moneda. Lincolao is not facing issues in just any ministry. She is navigating troubles in Science, the area where the government aimed to showcase modernity, excellence, and professional management.
But modernity without transparency breeds opacity; speed without dialogue results in imposition; and efficiency without rights starts to look too much like cuts. Governance is not business management. And the Kast administration seems to be learning this lesson the hard way through crises.
Because when curriculum is confused with leadership, speed with efficacy, and business with state, the outcome is not good management: it is political disorder dressed in technical garb.