The Demented Scholzomat
A machine without memory cannot lie — because it knows nothing. That is no accident. That is the system.
I. The Birth of the Machine
On 13 March 2003 an article by Jan Roß appeared in DIE ZEIT. In it a new word was coined: Scholzomat.
Olaf Scholz was at that time general secretary of the SPD under Gerhard Schröder. His task: to communicate the party line. He did so with a perfection that struck journalists — and unsettled them.
Whatever question was asked, Scholz answered with the same prepared sentences. He repeated the statements of the party leadership like a vending machine, mechanically, without emotion, unwavering. The question was irrelevant. The answer was programmed.
“For him an interview has gone well when he does not answer the questions but simply says what he had set out to say.” — Mark Schieritz, Scholz biographer
The remarkable thing: when Scholz was asked about the nickname years later, he said he had found the label “very apt”. No indignation. No denial. Acceptance. The Scholzomat was not an accident. It was a concept.
II. The Rise
From 2003 to 2021 the Scholzomat rose inexorably. SPD general secretary. Minister of Labour. First Mayor of Hamburg. Minister of Finance. Vice-Chancellor. Candidate for chancellor. Federal Chancellor.
Every stage showed the same pattern: little emotion, much control. No outbursts, no scandals, no quotable sentences. Scholz made no mistakes — because he said nothing that could be interpreted as a mistake.
His principle, as he formulated it himself: “Don't complain, don't explain.” No complaints. No explanations. No memoirs. No justifications. Silence as strategy.
In the 2021 election campaign this strategy was brought to perfection. While Armin Laschet disqualified himself by laughing in the flood zone and Annalena Baerbock tripped over an inflated CV, Scholz did — nothing. He stood there. He smiled. He repeated his sentences. He won.
III. The Problem with Memory
In 2016, when Scholz was still First Mayor of Hamburg, representatives of the Warburg Bank came to the city hall. The bank had a problem: the tax office wanted 47 million euros back — money from so-called cum-ex transactions, the largest tax robbery in German history.
What was discussed at that meeting remains unclear to this day. For the man who was there cannot remember.
Three times Olaf Scholz was summoned before the parliamentary committee of inquiry of the Hamburg city parliament. Three times he said essentially the same thing: “I cannot remember.”
The diary of Christian Olearius, head of the Warburg Bank, was seized by the public prosecutor's office. It documented meetings that Scholz allegedly could not remember. It described conversations whose content Scholz had allegedly forgotten.
But diaries are not evidence. Memory gaps are not lies. Forgetting is not a crime.
IV. The Evolution
Here the genius of the system reveals itself. The Scholzomat of 2003 and the Scholz of 2024 are not two different people. They are two stages of development of the same concept.
2003: the machine repeats prepared statements, whatever question is asked. The journalists are irritated but powerless. What are they to do? He says nothing false — he merely says nothing relevant.
2024: the machine declares that it does not remember, whatever question is asked. The committee members are irritated but powerless. What are they to do? He says nothing false — he merely says that he knows nothing.
A machine without memory cannot lie — because it knows nothing. And that is the point at which “dementia” ceases to be a weakness and becomes a strength.
In 2023 the Hamburg Public Prosecutor General's Office concluded: no initial suspicion against Scholz of making a false unsworn statement. The reasoning: it “could not be ruled out” that memory gaps had only “solidified” after the earlier statements. In other words: perhaps he remembered earlier. Perhaps he forgot later. Nobody can prove it. The machine is watertight.
V. Why “Almost” Perfect?
The federal election of 23 February 2025 brought the result: 16.4 per cent for the SPD. Almost ten percentage points less than in 2021. The historically worst result in decades. The shortest SPD chancellorship in history: 1,245 days.
It was not the cum-ex affair that brought him down. That remained without consequences. What brought Scholz down was something else: boredom. The Scholzomat was a perfect instrument for avoiding scandals. But it was useless for inspiration. In a crisis — the Ukraine war, the energy crisis, inflation, the chaos of the traffic-light coalition — people expected leadership. Or at least emotion. Scholz offered neither.
The perfect machine did not fail because of its perfection. It failed because perfection is not enough when circumstances demand humanity.
VI. The System
It would be easy to hold Scholz personally responsible. But that would miss the point. The Scholzomat is not an individual failure. It is the logical product of a system that rewards flawlessness and punishes authenticity.
The party apparatuses filter out anyone who gives offence. The media punish anyone who stumbles. Voters distrust anyone who commits himself. What remains in the end is the Scholz type: the smooth one, the controlled one, the undamaged one. The system produces administrators, not leaders. Managers of the status quo, not architects of change.
VII. The Exit
On 6 May 2025 Olaf Scholz handed over the chancellery to Friedrich Merz. No drama. No charges. No resignation under pressure. Simply a handover of office after a lost election.
The cum-ex affair? The committee of inquiry had presented its final report. No consequences. The memory gaps? Forgotten. Scholz remains a member of the Bundestag for his constituency of Potsdam. He will go on keeping silent when asked. He will go on not remembering when necessary.
that one can govern without memory.
It has only not proved
that it is worth it.
While Scholz sits in the Bundestag and remembers nothing, the proceedings continue — without him, but with his name in the background.
The Regional Court of Bonn must hear the case of Christian Olearius, long-time head of the M.M. Warburg Bank, once again. The Federal Court of Justice has ruled: separate proceedings are to examine whether the 43 million euros that, according to the public prosecutor, Olearius is said to have earned through the cum-ex transactions can be confiscated. Olearius is ill — he no longer has to appear in the dock in person. But his assets do.
The legal subtlety: according to the prosecution, the money was not paid “from the offence” — that is, not as direct proceeds of the tax refunds — but “for the offence”, as remuneration for Olearius' participation. The Federal Court of Justice has already ruled in a comparable case that this distinction is irrelevant for confiscation. Olearius' lawyer Peter Gauweiler nonetheless appears confident: his client had “already paid several times that amount to the treasury.”
The paradox of the system is now complete: Olearius, who kept a diary, faces the confiscation of 43 million euros. Scholz, who could remember nothing, sits in the Bundestag. The diary was the weapon turned against its writer. Silence was the shield that protected its user.
Olearius wrote down what he knew. Scholz forgot what he knew. Who was cleverer, the outcome shows.
The eighth cum-ex trial — against three more former Warburg bankers — begins next week. All seven previous trials ended in convictions. The Scholzomat keeps running — undamaged, unconvicted, unremembering.