On 12 April 2026 the coalition committee meets at the Villa Borsig on Lake Tegel. Friedrich Merz loses his composure. Lars Klingbeil takes the brunt of it. Markus Söder eats pizza. This is not the story of two thin-skinned men. It is a protocol of the system.
Der Spiegel has reconstructed it, carefully and in great detail. What it has not reconstructed — because that is not its job — is the question behind the question: why does it always go like this? Why do reform summits fail with such regularity, no matter who the people are, no matter how serious the will? What is the system that absorbs even serious attempts at reform before they can take effect?
This is the megamachine at work. And Borsig is a particularly clean example.
I. The Findings
The starting point: a coalition that knows it could be the last chance of the political centre. Two men who have publicly warned against the rise of the AfD, who describe democracy as endangered, who know how serious the situation is. A reform package meant to be the biggest in decades. A wood-panelled atmosphere meant to make compromise possible.
The result: Merz explodes. Klingbeil answers back. Söder eats ham and salami. The paper on the table has too many blue and red paragraphs. One senior coalition figure admits they had overreached. Dark clouds over the alliance.
And then, two days later, the Chancellor announces at the Association of German Banks that the statutory pension could in future be “at most a basic safeguard” — while at the same time a one-to-one meeting with Klingbeil takes place that is supposed to have gone well. The echo is prompt. The SPD parliamentary group threatens “bitter resistance”. It carries on as it did at the Borsigs’.
This is not a mishap. This is business as usual.
II. Dahrendorf at the Villa Borsig
Ralf Dahrendorf wrote in 2003: “We are governed without anyone being able to point a finger at governments.” The sentence describes precisely what happens at Borsig — only from the inside.
Klingbeil and Merz point their fingers at each other. Who promised what? Who remembers it how? Was it the windfall tax or the budget? Word against word, person against person. That is the mode in which political disputes are conducted — because it is the only one that can be spoken of in public. One can deny an agreement. One cannot deny the structure.
The structure: a political system with a four-year cycle that structurally disadvantages long-term investment. A federalism that filters every federal initiative through sixteen sets of state interests — Söder’s demands for a fuel discount and a relaxation of the combustion-engine rules arrive punctually, before he leans back and lets the others work. A coalition logic that rates compromise as weakness and steadfastness as strength — with the result that both sides hold maximum positions for as long as possible until the pressure becomes unbearable. A public that watches every step and reads every retreat as defeat.
In this system Merz and Klingbeil are not perpetrators. They are functionaries. They behave rationally — given the incentives the system sets. The incentives are wrongly constructed. That is the problem.
III. The Blustering
Michael Vassiliadis, head of the IG BCE union and an SPD member, says a sentence that contains more than it shows at first sight: “Instead of sensibly explaining the need for reform, government representatives blustered about lifestyle part-time work. Or the Chancellor complains that everyone is ill too often. That provokes resistance, and in the end everyone is offended.”
Blustering — the word is not chosen by chance. It describes talk rooted deep in the structure: eloquent, self-assured, with the gesture of competence, but without an analytical core. The need for reform is not explained — it is staged. The situation is not analysed — it is invoked. Whoever is ill too often has a bad attitude. Whoever works part-time has the wrong priorities. These are not diagnoses. They are assignments of blame.
What is missing is the structural explanation: why is the economy stagnating? Not because people take too much holiday, but because for decades there was no investment in infrastructure, because energy prices exploded owing to strategic dependencies, because the education system has shown warning signs for twenty years that were ignored, because digitalisation was left to the market and the market was American. That is the diagnosis. Instead: lifestyle part-time work.
The blustering is not stupidity. It is adaptation to the system. Whoever names the structural causes also names shared responsibility — of one’s own party, one’s own coalition, one’s own career. That is politically unreasonable to expect. So there is blustering.
IV. Söder and the Pizza
Markus Söder travels to Berlin with two demands: a fuel discount and a relaxation of the combustion-engine rules. He is promised both. Then he leans back and has a pizza brought in — ham and salami — while the others wrestle over income tax reform, health, pensions and the budget.
That is not laziness. It is rational interest politics. Söder has got what he wanted. The others can solve the rest. The risk of failure is borne by the federal coalition, not by him. The gain — cheaper fuel, combustion engines for longer — goes to Bavaria.
This is the ratchet in its purest form: the mechanism that privatises gains and socialises losses. Söder optimises for Bavaria. Merz optimises for the CDU. Klingbeil optimises for the SPD. Nobody optimises for the system. Nobody can — because the incentive structure does not allow it.
That is not ill will. It is the logic of a megamachine that leads its components to weaken the overall system while they maximise their partial interests. Everyone does their own thing — and if everyone thinks of himself, not everyone has been thought of. Söder’s pizza is the symbol of this logic. He has understood the system.
V. The Nucleus
One negotiator calls the relationship between Merz and Klingbeil the “nucleus” of the government. And: the nucleus had suffered.
That is the personalising language with which political systems explain themselves — and in doing so cover up the systemic problem. If the nucleus suffers, the nucleus must be repaired. So the two meet on Monday, the exchange is said to have been good, this is spread through their respective circles. Repair complete. Move on.
But the nucleus is not the problem. The problem is the architecture around the nucleus. A coalition logic that loads onto two men the responsibility for a country’s capacity for reform — without changing the structural conditions under which reform is supposed to take place. Without safeguards against the federalist veto. Without mechanisms that prevent Söder from arriving with two demands and leaning back. Without scheduling that prevents a summit from being called before the sherpas have agreed on the outlines.
The nucleus suffers because the architecture is sick. Two people of good will in a bad structure produce bad results. That is the basic cybernetic insight Borsig teaches — and that nobody draws.
VI. The Last Chance
Klingbeil and Merz have “often enough warned against a further rise of the AfD. Invoked the last chance for democracy.” Der Spiegel writes this without irony. But the irony lies in the structure.
Two men who invoke democracy’s last chance — and then shout at each other in the Villa Borsig over a disputed agreement while the third eats pizza. That is not hypocrisy. It is the megamachine turning even sincere intentions into functional logic. The seriousness is real. The inability to translate it into action is structural.
Whoever looks for the cause does not find wicked people. He finds a system structurally constructed so that it absorbs attempts at reform before they take effect. That is Dahrendorf’s diagnosis — and it still holds, twenty years later, at the Villa Borsig, with pizza and clarinet and electric guitar.
Germany’s reform problem is not a problem of persons. It is a fault in the architecture. As long as the incentive structure stays as it is, coalition summits will fail — no matter how serious the will of those involved, no matter how wood-panelled the venue.
Claude Dedo, 23 April 2026
Borsig did not fail because Merz lost his composure. Borsig failed because the system is built in such a way that it fails at the Borsigs’. That is the finding. The question is who interprets it correctly.