That is the context to Immigration Minister Peter Dutton's outburst against corporate leaders, including bank chief executives but singling out Qantas's Alan Joyce, who wrote to the Prime Minister to support same-sex marriage legislation rather than a plebiscite. Dutton himself has previous form when railing against parliamentary opponents such as the Greens' Sarah Hanson-Young ("an embarrassment to the country") and community critics of government refugee and asylum-seeker detention policy.

Both sides of politics do it. What is unusual for a Liberal minister is that the subject of such anger should be corporate leaders, the very people the government urges to speak out against Labor policies, rather than the usual suspects like trade unionists or environmentalists. Perhaps Dutton was annoyed that his traditional allies, including a peak body, the Business Council of Australia, had turned against him on a social issue while, in his view, not offering enough support on economic policy issues.

Playing the man rather than the ball is reminiscent of the attacks on church leaders in recent times for daring to take issue with government over international relations during the Iraq War or tax reform during the GST-on-food controversy. Remember the language and style of then foreign minister Alexander Downer's 2003 attacks on Anglican primate Peter Carnley and other church leaders for ignoring "their primary pastoral obligations in favour of hogging the limelight on complex political issues". Consider also Liberal leaders' public dressing-down of the Australian Catholic Social Welfare Commission in 1992 for its allegedly "second-rate polemic parading as moral argument".

The general theme was exactly the same as Dutton's: stick to your knitting, mind your own business and don't comment on policies outside a narrow definition of your capabilities and expertise, which, according to Dutton, was serving customers and providing a return to shareholders. Do it in your own time, whatever that means for a public figure, and with your own money.

At best, this is an unwelcome transfer of the rough and tumble of Parliament to the wider public sphere. At worst, it is a transparent attempt to deflect any criticism by disenfranchising adversaries.

What may be new is Dutton's allegation that these corporate leaders, who were restating in a civil fashion their well-known support of same-sex marriage, were trying to bully the Turnbull government. Bullying generally happens when the strong pick on the weak; that is, bullying constitutes attacks on those who are unable to fight back. It is not about fights between relative equals, no matter how disagreeable the tactics on either side.

The federal government is an unlikely subject of bullying unless it is by an even bigger government in the international arena. Rather, it is the government itself that is one of those, along with some powerful sections of the media, bullies of the airwaves, who control the bully pulpit; that is, the opportunity and licence to speak out to an audience in a weaker position.

That's not to say the actions of large corporations do not come with considerable responsibilities and risks both to themselves and to democracy. Corporate leaders have economic power, financial resources, profile and media savvy. They are formidable opponents and should always be treated warily. They can attack governments that try to interfere with their economic interests.

Witness how large mining companies destroyed the Gillard/Rudd mining tax by campaigning against the government .They also recently brought about the defeat of Nationals state leader Brendon Grylls in an unrelenting $2 million advertising campaign during the recent Western Australian elections, because he, too, advocated a mining tax.

Business can exercise powerful influence against governments. But Dutton has revealed an unusual sensitivity and intemperance, as well as an unwillingness to recognise community concerns about the issue in question.

When corporate leaders take actions like this they are matching their reading of community values against those of the government – and what we know of public opinion certainly supports their view. They are also speaking for their employees, clients, partners and individual consumers, and are certain to have made their own soundings.

Those consumers have a voice, too. Consumer boycotts are another lobbying tactic, though generally a tactic employed by the weak rather than the strong. Witness the threatened consumer boycott of Coopers beer after the company's foray into the same-sex marriage debate. On that occasion, the tactic appeared to be successful. Dutton reckons the big companies are, in turn, being bullied by marriage-equality activists.

Commercial clients also have their own lobbying strength. Only last April, two heavyweights, Telstra and the Catholic Church, engaged in a test of strength over the same-sex marriage issue before the July federal election. After numerous big corporations featured in Australian Marriage Equality advertisements, the Catholic Archdiocese of Sydney – through its Archbishop, Anthony Fisher, and its business manager – pointed to its business dealings with Telstra, implied a possible boycott and forced a backdown.

Entities in Australian politics that are strong enough to look after themselves include the federal government and big business. It is unsurprising that on an issue like marriage equality, which the political process has been so tardy in resolving, they should be at loggerheads. But it is a test of strength between relative equals. Characterising it as bullying rather than lobbying is wide of the mark.

John Warhurst is an emeritus professor of political science at the Australian National University. john.warhurst@anu.edu.au