My local football club recently told fans about a candidate for the vacant post of manager. “Although I am 15 years of age, and lack much coaching experience,” his email read, “I am very skilled at the computer game, Football Manager?.?.?.?”

This sort of curriculum vitae is becoming more common. Last November, FC Baku of Azerbaijan appointed Vugar Huseynzade, 21, to a senior coaching position; the former business student suggested that years playing Football Manager would help. And why not? The US military has used video games to attract candidates for years, and “drone” warfare has arguably made such skills vital to modern combat. High-school gamers seem to have an edge in robotic surgery simulation, according to one study, and every chief executive I know boasts a “dashboard” of operating data.

Yet most people are as sceptical about remote-controlling chief executives as they are about square-eyed virtual surgeons, distant drone pilots and computer-trained football coaches. “He’s an automaton” and “She’s running on autopilot” are part of the anthology of classic criticisms of senior managers. Cut off from the consequences of their actions, senior executives, glued to a screen in the safety of a corner office, will feel freer to zap capital expenditure, close factories and sack workers.