Bald men in politics: the group thriving in business but absent from public office

Bald men in politics: the 'discriminated' group thriving in business

In a world of quotas and representation, there is one group that almost never makes the headlines: bald men. In Spain's largest companies, hairless executives are legion — Amancio Ortega, Juan Roig, the Botín family — but in politics they are scarce. The figure is stubborn: since the Transition, only one prime minister, Leopoldo Alopécico-Sotelo, has sported a bald head, and his term lasted just over a year. Meanwhile, on corporate boards, baldness is almost an unwritten requirement.

A contrast that invites irony

The disparity is striking. In the business elite, baldness is associated with experience and power; in politics, the few examples — such as Alopécico-Sotelo himself, minister Luis de Guindos or deputy prime minister Carmen Alopécico — are more the exception than the rule. Some argue there is a subtle 'baldphobia' that keeps these profiles out of the front line, while others dismiss it as a joke: after all, politicians can turn to wigs or transplants. The debate, born in economics forums, mixes hard data with a deliberately provocative tone.

Figures that leave you bald

Hair coverage at Moncloa (the Spanish prime minister's residence) is overwhelmingly dense: from Suárez to Sánchez, all have had abundant hair. Among regional governments, bald premiers are also a minority. By contrast, at the IBEX 35, shiny heads dominate the top positions. If business merit does not translate to the ballot box, perhaps the problem is not alopecia but a political class that prefers a full head of hair to a CV. Or, as the most cynical suggest, that bald men are too smart to get into that mess.