A country is not a startup
Lincolao has accumulated resignations, mass firing accusations, and conflicts with scientists in just 60 days, becoming known for controversy rather than policy achievements. Critics argue she views science as a transactional tool for immediate profit rather than a public good, reflecting Silicon Valley ideology incompatible with Chile's scientific tradition.
- Ximena Lincolao accumulated resignations, firing allegations, and scientific conflicts within 60 days of taking office
- The Franco-Chilean binational AI center agreement, backed by Emmanuel Macron, now faces collapse due to Chile's failure to formalize economic commitments
- Ministry sources describe unprecedented diplomatic deterioration and the minister's stated reason for stalling the project: no budget
Chile's Science Minister Ximena Lincolao faces mounting criticism after 60 days in office for prioritizing market-driven returns over public science, alienating the scientific community and jeopardizing international cooperation agreements.
Sixty days into her tenure as Chile's science minister, Ximena Lincolao had already accumulated a trail of departures, firing allegations, and open conflict with the country's scientific establishment. Her subsecretario resigned. Staff reported a climate of fear and distrust. Questions surfaced about omissions in her financial disclosures. An incident at the Universidad Austral—an altercation that paradoxically became her most visible moment in public consciousness—only underscored a pattern: she had become known not for a single scientific initiative or structural reform, but for perpetual friction.
What began as administrative turbulence quickly revealed something deeper. Conversations among researchers, technologists, diplomats, and policy experts converged on a diagnosis that troubled many: Lincolao did not appear to understand science as a public good or a long-term project of human and cultural development. Instead, she treated it as a transactional instrument, valuable only insofar as it generated immediate economic returns. "She doesn't see value in science," one innovation sector source said bluntly. "All science has to produce economic impact. If it doesn't make money, it simply doesn't work." The observation echoed across different constituencies—from AI specialists to international cooperation officials—each describing an ideological framework shaped by Silicon Valley imagery: a shrunken state, subordinate to markets, skeptical of knowledge that could not be quickly monetized. The vision bore the imprint of figures like Peter Thiel and the worldview of big tech.
One public policy expert in science noted the problem extended beyond a preference for artificial intelligence or tech startups. The deeper issue was that the minister seemed not to grasp why a science ministry existed at all. Technology, the expert pointed out, encompassed biotechnology, pharmacology, robotics, basic research, human capital formation, universities, applied science. None of these appeared on the current agenda. Under this logic, research stopped being understood as a decades-long institutional project and became evaluated solely through the lens of immediate economic return—a paradigm that threatened to dismantle generations of careful scientific construction.
The most delicate example was the Franco-Chilean agreement to establish a binational artificial intelligence center, one of the most ambitious scientific cooperation projects Chile had undertaken in recent years. The accord had been developed across multiple administrations, endorsed even by Emmanuel Macron's visit. France had already committed resources and funding. Yet Chile had failed to formalize its economic commitment, made nearly a year earlier. Ministry sources familiar with the country's scientific diplomacy described an unprecedented deterioration. The response from the minister's office had been simple: no budget. But beneath the financial excuse lay something graver—a complete absence of interest in scientific diplomacy itself. "This government broke a transversal line of cooperation that Chile had sustained for years," one source said. "The strategic weight of science in international relations is not understood." The binational center was meant to encompass not just AI research but talent development, advanced computing infrastructure, foreign investment attraction, and Chilean access to French technological capabilities far superior to what existed domestically. The prospect of the project weakening or collapsing had become a symbol of the distance between the current ministry leadership and Chile's scientific tradition.
Inside the ministry itself, the disconnection was palpable. Early in her tenure, Lincolao held an all-staff meeting via Zoom—while everyone, including herself, sat in the same building. Dozens of workers logged in from their offices while the minister remained in hers, addressing them through a screen. The anecdote circulated as a metaphor for a distant, unpolitical, and fundamentally alien approach to institutional culture. "She doesn't have the codes," someone who had met with her directly observed. "She doesn't understand how the state works, and doesn't seem particularly interested in learning." Lincolao came not from the scientific, academic, or university world but from digital entrepreneurship and technology applications in the United States. That background appeared to be the source of her vision: she seemed to believe the ministry should operate like a startup. "But a country is not a startup," the observation went. The fear taking shape across the scientific ecosystem was that Chile was beginning to replace a knowledge-development policy with a radicalized market logic, where science held value only if it produced immediate profit.
Citas Notables
She doesn't see value in science. All science has to produce economic impact. If it doesn't make money, it simply doesn't work.— Innovation sector source on the minister's approach
This government broke a transversal line of cooperation that Chile had sustained for years. The strategic weight of science in international relations is not understood.— Ministry source familiar with scientific diplomacy
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does it matter how a science minister thinks about the purpose of science? Isn't the goal always to produce useful results?
Because science isn't just about immediate utility. Basic research—the kind that doesn't have a clear commercial application—often leads to breakthroughs decades later. If you only fund what's profitable right now, you lose the foundation that makes future innovation possible.
But couldn't a startup mentality actually make things more efficient? Cut waste, move faster?
Efficiency and speed work in some contexts. But they destroy others. You can't rush a university's capacity to train the next generation of researchers. You can't speed up the diplomatic relationships that let countries collaborate on big problems. A startup fails, you learn, you move on. A broken scientific institution takes decades to rebuild.
What's the actual damage from the Franco-Chilean AI center stalling?
It's not just one project. It signals that Chile is stepping back from being a serious scientific partner. France invested. They expected reciprocal commitment. When that doesn't materialize, other countries notice. The next time Chile wants to collaborate on something ambitious, there's hesitation.
Is the minister simply inexperienced, or is this ideological?
Both, probably. But ideology matters more here. You can learn how government works. What's harder to change is a fundamental belief that science only has value if it makes money. That belief shapes every decision downstream.
What would need to happen for this to change?
Either the minister would need to genuinely understand what she's managing—which seems unlikely given how she's approached the role—or there would need to be enough pressure from the scientific community and the government itself that her approach becomes untenable. Right now, she's isolated but still in place.