Here is a sentence you don't read very often: Boris Johnson has not been getting enough publicity. The mayor of London and wannabe prime minister has not received the attention that he deserves for the extraordinary personal political credo that he unveiled in the Margaret Thatcher lecture to the Centre for Policy Studies, a speech that may prove to be a defining moment in his career, though not in quite the way that its author intended.

Where on earth do we start? Let's begin with his view of what drives human nature in general and capitalist economies in particular. The speech was highly illuminating – not about what really makes society tick, but about what goes on inside the whirling head of mayor Johnson. It is his contention that "greed" and "the spirit of envy" are not vices to be regretted, but virtues to be lauded because they are "a valuable spur to economic activity". This was not a throwaway line, a light aside, just another one of those provocative Johnsonian sallies designed to wind up lefties and stimulate the erogenous zones of the right wing of the Tory party. It was central to his argument. He hailed greed and envy as emotions to be celebrated because that was at the heart of his contention that inequality is not only inevitable, it is desirable and necessary as an engine of economic growth.

There are not many arguments that are simultaneously pitiless towards the poor and rude to the successful, but with this one he achieved that rare double whammy. The Johnsonian philosophy tells the less well off that they should accept and endure their fate as the price to be paid for generating the envy that lubricates the wheels of capitalism. At the same time, he manages to be offensive to genuine entrepreneurs by telling them that their primary motivator is greed. The third problem with his argument is that it is just rubbish.

To see it for the tripe that it is, I recommend a brilliant new book by John Kay entitled Obliquity. He marshals many examples to demonstrate that the simple-minded pursuit of profit and material gain is precisely the wrong way to go about creating a valuable business. Henry Ford grew the company to which he gave his name because he wanted to build motor cars and have them owned by as many people as possible. Boeing became the world's most successful manufacturer of aircraft not out of love of money but because it wanted to make the best passenger jets. Bill Gates became so huge because he had a passion for computers. Warren Buffett, who rivals Gates for being the world's richest man, still lives in the bungalow in Omaha he bought 50 years ago and his favourite dinner is a Nebraskan steak washed down with cherry Coke.

His great wealth, a lot of which he has given away, is a marker of his status as the world's shrewdest investor, not a desire for material goods. Mr Kay compellingly argues that the pursuit of gain for its own sake – the greed worshipped by mayor Johnson – is usually the most disastrous way to run a business. "That obsession frequently destroys them or the organisations that attract them." The folly of Lehman Brothers is one of many examples from the Great Crash that illustrate that.

It is worrying that the mayor of Britain's largest city does not understand what makes the difference between successful and destructive capitalism. It gets more disturbing when we move on to his musings about human intelligence. Opined the man who would like to lead Britain: "It is surely relevant to a conversation about equality that as many as 16% of our species have an IQ below 85, while about 2% have an IQ above 130." The bizarre reference to humankind as "our species" drew from Nick Clegg the rebuke that Mr Johnson was talking about people as if they were "like a breed of dogs".

The fundamental reason to object to this element of the Johnsonian creed is not that he is breaking some supposed taboo with his crudely expressed, but not terribly controversial, notion that human beings differ in their natural abilities and some of that difference is inherited. The real problem here is with the implied conclusion that the poor are poor because they are born stupid, the rich are rich because they spring from the womb destined to be that way, and there's nothing much anyone can do about it except to urge the wealthy not to be too "heartless" and let a few of the talented poor into the elite.

This is another argument that manages to be brutal to the less advantaged while simultaneously insulting those who have thrived. To those who have done well, it says that their achievements have not been earned by their application or determination, but are the result of a genetic windfall. To those who struggle, it says that they should blame their lot on the lousy biological hand they were dealt by their parents and just suck it up.

Aldous Huxley called Brave New World, his dark depiction of a future for humankind in which everyone is conditioned to know their place, a "negative utopia". Children are born into various castes, which are sub-divided into "Plus" and "Minus" members. Each caste is designed to serve predetermined roles in society from which they can never break free. There are the Gammas, Deltas and Epsilons who are bred to do the menial tasks and chemically manipulated to prevent them from wanting to be anything more than they are. At the top sits a tiny elite of Alphas who wield the power.

I don't know whether the mayor of London is familiar with Huxley's novel. He might like one of its conceits: to sustain the placidity of the population, recreational and promiscuous sex is strongly encouraged by the state. I am sure he would protest that this was not his intention, but the vision of society that he promotes is not entirely remote from Huxley's chilling dystopia. The mayor, who presumably regards himself as an Alpha Plus, is effectively telling the person who cleans his office, whom he dismisses as an Epsilon Minus, that their unequal fates are preordained at birth.

"Why on earth enter this territory?" asks one close ally of David Cameron. "Anything that has the whiff of eugenics is just not smart. A lot of people read that and thought, 'Oh, fuck, Boris. Do you really want to say that?'"

Officially, Number 10 is trying to avoid comment, not wanting to draw the prime minister into a confrontation with his fellow old Etonian. But if Mr Cameron is asked about it directly, he will surely be obliged to disown it, having previously made speeches arguing that inequality does matter and so do extremes of it because they are unhealthy both for society and the economy. There is a mixed reaction around the prime minister to the mayor's effusion. Some of Mr Cameron's circle struggle to conceal relish that the troublesome rival over the water has scored a spectacular own goal. That pleasure is blended with distress that the mayor has made the Tories sound not only elitist, but absolutely thrilled to be so, and in a way more devastating than any Labour or Lib Dem politician could ever do.

One Conservative MP groans: "You can already see the Labour posters, 'Greed is good, says Boris Johnson.'"

It seems only appropriate that I should conclude with a quick political intelligence test especially devised for the mayor of London.

1. The Conservative party has a damaging reputation among the many voters who see it as motivated by a desire to promote the interests of the rich and privileged. Tory strategists believe that this is a formidable obstacle that must be overcome by your party if it is to stay in office beyond the next election. In an important speech, would it help the Tory cause if you were to celebrate privilege and greed?

2. The Conservative party is also charged with being disdainful of ordinary people. Labour have clearly and repeatedly signalled that they plan to fight the next election campaign by attacking the Tories for not caring about the majority. Would it be smart to suggest that large swaths of the population should be written off on the grounds that they are too thick to compete?

3. The Lib Dems say that only their presence in government has prevented the Tory party from being extreme and nasty and they will turn up the volume on this message the closer we get to the next election. Thinking about how you might deal with the accusation that you are in favour of an unfair society, would it demonstrate a high level of brain function to suggest that inequality is a jolly admirable thing?

4. Would it be helpful to the Tory cause to liken society to a cereal packet and say: "The harder you shake the pack, the easier it will be for some cornflakes to get to the top"? Would dismissing millions of voters as small cornflakes at the bottom of the pack send an attractive message to the electorate?

5. Finally, and think very carefully about this one: however much a politician may crave attention, would you agree that there are times when even the most needy of them would be better off keeping their mouth shut?