The Billionaire's Ballot: Tobi Lütke's War on Democratic Equality

When Tobi Lütke, the billionaire co-founder and CEO of Shopify, takes to X to discuss the mechanics of voting, it is easy to dismiss it as the eccentric musings of a tech mogul. But looking closer at the specifics of his endorsements, it becomes clear that Lütke isn't just talking about corporate governance or efficiency. He is proposing a fundamental rewrite of the Canadian social contract—one that explicitly trades democratic equality for the influence of the ultra-wealthy.

As reported by CBC News, Lütke recently replied positively to a proposal from Eric Thor, a retired TD Bank executive, who suggested an electoral system based on "weighted voting proportional to the amount of income tax you pay." Under Thor's proposed system, those who pay no income tax would receive zero votes, while those paying $500,000 or more would be granted five votes. Lütke's response was succinct and chilling: "Good system."

This is not a nuanced debate about tax reform or civic engagement. It is a direct assault on the principle of "one person, one vote." By endorsing a system where political power is scaled by tax contribution, Lütke is arguing that the right to help steer the ship of state should be reserved for those who can afford the highest ticket price. In this worldview, the poor and the working class are not citizens with inherent rights, but secondary actors whose voices are mathematically diminished by their lack of wealth.

Lütke didn't stop at the wealthy. In the same thread, as detailed by CBC News, he proposed stripping voting rights from retirees with pensions. Lütke argued that such individuals are "dependents," suggesting that they should be treated "just like dependents under age." His justification? "Enjoy the deal, let people with a stake in the future decide."

This logic is as cruel as it is reductive. To suggest that a senior citizen—who has spent a lifetime contributing to the fabric of Canadian society—suddenly loses their stake in the future the moment they retire is a rejection of the basic dignity of citizenship. It frames the right to vote not as a fundamental human right, but as a conditional privilege granted only to those currently generating taxable revenue.

John Beebe, director of the Democratic Engagement Exchange at Toronto Metropolitan University, told CBC News that these comments reflect a broader, more dangerous trend of "incredibly wealthy people feeling like they should be calling all the shots." Beebe noted that such suggestions breed a cynicism that is "destructive to our democracy" and highlight how out of touch the ultra-wealthy are with the lived experiences of regular Canadians.

What makes Lütke's rhetoric particularly alarming is that he is not a passive observer of Canadian politics. He is an active participant with significant leverage. According to reporting from The Logic, Shopify was engaged in a "lobbying blitz" in early 2026, conducting more meetings in Ottawa during the first three months of the year than in the entirety of 2025. Lütke is also involved with Build Canada, an advocacy group of tech leaders that, according to memos on its website, pushes for the implementation of digital ID, the prioritization of AI, and cuts to federal spending.

When a man who leads a company worth more than $200 billion and operates as a registered lobbyist suggests that the poor and the elderly should be disenfranchised, he is not merely "thinking outside the box." He is signaling a desire for a plutocracy. He is suggesting that the government should be run like a corporation where voting power is tied to equity—except in this case, the "equity" is tax payment, and the "board of directors" is a small circle of billionaires.

We have seen this impulse before. CBC News notes that at the time of Confederation, voting was restricted to men who were British subjects and owned property. It took decades of struggle to dismantle these barriers: women gained the vote in 1918 (provided they met property conditions), property requirements vanished by 1920, Asian Canadians won the right to vote in 1948, and First Nations adults gained the vote without sacrificing their status in 1960.

Lütke's "good system" is an attempt to turn the clock back over a century. It is a proposal to return Canada to a state where the law is written by the few for the benefit of the few.

Lütke's recent political leanings—including an affinity for Elon Musk and his assertion that President Donald Trump's demands to crack down on fentanyl dens and control borders were "not crazy"—suggest a growing comfort with authoritarian-leaning rhetoric. But the proposal to weight votes by income is the ultimate expression of this drift. It is the admission that he no longer believes in the democratic process as a tool for the common good, but rather as a mechanism that should be optimized for the benefit of the high-net-worth individual.

If we allow the conversation to shift toward the idea that wealth equals a greater right to govern, we aren't just changing a voting rule; we are abandoning the idea of equality. Tobi Lütke may be a visionary in e-commerce, but his vision for Canadian democracy is a nightmare of exclusion. The social contract is not a business deal to be renegotiated by the highest bidder; it is the promise that every citizen, regardless of their bank account or their age, has an equal say in the future of their country.