Latitude +33° 47' 33.73" north, longitude +11° 2' 48.48" east

I’m here. Please don’t be offended if I don’t reply to emails or return phone calls straight away. I’ll be fully operational around May 15th.

David Osimo has been guest editing an issue of the European Journal of E-Practice bearing the significant title asked me to contribute to the “E-government 2.0: hype, hope or reality?”, and he asked me to contribute to it. I joined forces with Tito Bianchi, and together we produced a paper that summarizes two years of Kublai. The executive summary is this: web 2.0 can be quite a powerful tool fo public policy. But it is very, very much at odds with the prevailing administrative culture, which is still based on Weber’s idea of impersonal procedures, subject to controls that are aimed at verifying formal correctness rather than performance. If it is to go 2.0 at all, the State should guard the public interest while allowing and encouraging people to trythings out their own way. The full paper is called “Harnessing the unexpected” and can be read and downloaded here; David’ editorial is here.

A few weeks ago I joined a semisecret organization that will save the world in 2020. We’re going through drills for now, but we already know that in ten years our boss, the mysterious Alchemy, will summon us into action. Thanks to our training, we will not be caught unprepared.

I’m playing EVOKE. It’s an alternate reality game (ARG) launched by the World Bank to educate the young, especially in Africa, to social innovation and development, using the game as a learning environment (here is the launch post on the World Bank’s blog).

ARGs are very promising learning environments. When well designed, they turn out to be way more engaging than, say, classrooms. They have two advantages. One is game dynamics: you are assigned missions, and once you report carrying them out (in EVOKE you’d do that by writing blog posts) the game interface immediately rewards you with points, achievement runes, awards etc. There is a fundamental pleasure in seeing your dashboard light up with missions accomplished. The other one is narratives: stories access something deeply hardwired in our cortex, so that “hey, go read about water scarcity – it’s good to spread knowledge” does definitely not feel the same as “Agent Alberto, Alchemy needs you to save the world from the threat of water scarcity! Do some research on innovative ways to address the problem, and spread it across our secret network with a blog post” – though of course it is. Despite some remaining design problems (like orienteering yourself to the best missions to get a feel for the game as a newbie, or the quests, that apparently don’t do anything ingame), EVOKE exploits those advantages reasonably well. As I played on, completing missions and receiving power points from fellow Evoke Agents, I could feel the almost physical pull gamers are so familiar with.

Apparently I’m not the only one. EVOKE has attracted over 15,000 players over the first month. As always, most people do little or nothing, but there is a very active minority which comes up with incredible ideas, and often go out and simply deploy them. EVOKE superstars have created stuff like SEED (improving quality of life and opportunity through a customized curriculum in Sierra Leone), Gratitude Gardens (“combination social enterprise incubators, living seed banks, and community gathering spaces”), and an effort to arrange a global collection network for the American charity Hopephones. Some agents are busy creating a platform that will stay on when EVOKE ends in May, EVOKE4EVER.

There also seems to be a dark side to EVOKE. Some players are complaining that their comments, when they are critical of the game, have been getting erased from the recent activity feed to prevent their going viral; some of the highest profile agents have even disappeared from the network. An ugly word, “censorship”, is being uttered. While these are unconfirmed (and could be even part of the ARG’s plot!) I know personally some very bright social innovators that, in the wake of the controversy, grew disillusioned with EVOKE and focused their commitment elsewhere. And this is pretty bad news, because reaching out to these people is the reason EVOKE even exists. The lesson to be learned is the usual one of web 2.0: networks of smart agents (like people, as opposed to dumb agents like neurons) can be grown, influenced and destroyed, but NEVER controlled. If you are not ready to accept that they might do stuff which you did not desing for, don’t even bother starting one (elsewhere Tito Bianchi and I make this point in more detail). I wrote to the World Bank asking for comments, but no reply yet.

But this is true of much government 2.0. The fact of the matter is, games are a very promising policy tool, as they hold a lot of potential to channel collective efforts thanks to game dynamics and narratives. The World Bank is not alone in its pioneering efforts: it is actually following in the footsteps of the International Olympic Committee (The Lost Ring, 2008), the Corporation for Public Broadcasting (Flashback, 2008), the Institute for the Future (Superstruct, 2008). All these games save Flashback, but including EVOKE, have been designed at some level by pervasive game guru Jane McGonigal. Her vision is simple: put to an useful purpose the billions of hours a week and relentless enthusiasm put into playing online games (see her TED presentation, inspiring though it does not take into account that kids were playing with the same enthusiasm well before online games).

For once, Italy is not hopelessly lagging behind. This is mainly thanks to CriticalCity, a young Milan-based startup who launched their own pervasive game in 2008; created an exciting ARG in 2009 in the UNESCO heritage city of Matera (video); and are now seeking to upgrade to a large-scale ARG (“a game as big as life itself”, as they like put it) codenamed CriticalCity Upload. I have the honor of serving in their advisory board, and I intend to keep my eyes wide open for opportunities to learn about how you can do policy by gaming. How many power points do I get for that?

Daniel Kaufmann fa il punto della situazione dopo-terremoto di Haiti. Nei tre mesi dopo il sisma, la comunità internazionale ha erogato aiuti per oltre due miliardi di dollari (di cui uno da donatori privati); il fabbisogno a tre anni è stimato a 11,5 miliardi. Se nell’emergenza molti aiuti sono stati portati ad Haiti direttamente da associazioni solidaristiche internazionali – bypassando sia le istituzioni che la società civile di Haiti – nei prossimi tempi ci si aspetta che il governo haitiano giochi un ruolo centrale nell’erogazione degli interventi. Ciò richiederebbe uno stato forte ed efficace; lo stato haitiano, invece, non solo è debole, ma è soggetto a cattura da parte di pochissime famiglie dominanti, che lo gestiscono come se fosse una loro proprietà. In questa situazione, il rischio di vedere i denari degli aiuti internazionali sprecati o intascati dai ricchi è, purtroppo, molto concreto. E ancora più concreto è il rischio che la gestione di questi flussi venga affidata ai soliti sospetti, che finirebbero per vederne ulteriormente rafforzata la loro posizione. Questo è stato riconosciuto da tutte le parti in causa.

Molti suggeriscono di copiare la strategia delle autorità indonesiane per la ricostruzione post-tsunami (qui il rapporto della Banca Mondiale), che ha in realtà lasciato la zona di Aceh in condizioni economiche migliori che prima della catastrofe. Kaufmann crede che questo non sia realistico, e suggerisce una strategia “indonesiana” corretta per la presenza di uno stato debole. E cioè:

1. Mitigare gli effetti dei conflitti di interesse delle figure senior nella pubblica amministrazione e nei tribunali. I loro redditi e le loro proprietà dovrebbero essere pubblicati online in modo che accedervi sia facile. Occorre anche vietare che queste persone gestiscano imprese private, obbligandole a conferire i loro averi a blind trusts.
2. Ridurre il rischio di cattura. Per esempio, è stato proposto che la Commissione per la Ricostruzione di Haiti sia co-presieduta dal Presidente di Haiti e da uno straniero eminente, come Clinton o Lula. Queste persone non sono ricattabili e tengono al loro buon nome, per cui possono richiamare l’attenzione della comunità internazionale su eventuali irregolarità. In aggiunta, occorre fare in modo che il governo non abbia potere di veto su ciò che la Commissione fa, e renderla molto trasparente incardinando questa trasparenza già nella legge istitutiva
3. Costruire un sistema di appalti competitivo e trasparente. C’è una cosa che si chiama Internet, che può fare molto in questo senso.
4. Rendere trasparente il lato dei donatori. Chi mette soldi nella ricostruzione deve rendere pubblico (con il solito criterio della facile accessibilità online e dei dati machine-readable) a chi li sta dando, quanti e per fare cosa.
5. Dare un ruolo forte alle comunità locali e alla società civile, il “popolo delle carriole” della situazione. I cittadini non sono clienti, e non gli consegni un paese ricostruito “chiavi in mano”. Sono loro i protagonisti della ricostruzione.
6. Promuovere la trasparenza nelle politiche in senso ampio: istruzione, sanità, fisco, ambiente etc.

Non sono mica dei brutti consigli. Alcuni di questi potrebbero forse essere utili anche nell’Italia del dopo terremoto all’Aquila. Nel mondo globalizzato può capitare anche di dovere “copiare il compito” da Haiti, mentre la performance stellare (dice Kaufmann) dell’Indonesia resta completamente fuori portata.

Visioni Urbane è un progetto della Regione Basilicata per la costruzione di cinque spazi laboratorio per la creatività, che vorrebbero essere un’importante infrastruttura culturale e creativa per la scena della Regione. Vi collaboro anch’io, con un ruolo consultivo e di proposta di modi di pensare non esattamente tradizionali.

Fin dall’inizio ci siamo resi conto che non bastava aprire cantieri; bisognava cambiare la narrazione della creatività su quel territorio. I creativi erano all’angolo: dipendenti dalla spesa pubblica (e in concorrenza a somma zero per accaparrarsene un pezzo), scollegati dai mercati globali, sfavoriti da mercati locali di dimensioni troppo piccole, disillusi rispetto alla possibilità di collaborare con le istituzioni per ridisegnare lo scenario.

A novembre – quando i cantieri erano partiti, e la collaborazione creativi-Regione e creativi-creativi si erano sbloccate – abbiamo voluto dare al territorio un segnale forte che le cose stavano cambiando. Abbiamo chiesto al gruppo di CriticalCity di progettare un gioco urbano che coinvolgesse tutta la città di Matera, in occasione dell’iniziativa europea degli Open Days. Il risultato è stato A|MAze, e ne sono molto orgoglioso. Anche perché in A|Maze ho visto il futuro dell’entertainment business.

Most fiscal system discourage luxury consumption with a tax rate higher than that used for “normal” consumption, whatever that means. Any public finance 101 course will tell you that there are two reasons for this. One is that the demand for these goods is less responsive to variations in price than the demand for “normal” goods. Therefore, increasing their consumption tax rate does indeed lead to a slump in demand and GDP, but it is a lesser one than you would have had taxing nonluxury consumptions for any given revenue. The other reason is that it’s normally the wealthy consuming luxury goods, and economists are trained to have a preference for economic equality. All other things being equal, it’s best to tax the rich.

All of this holds in a static model and in equilibrium. In equilibrium, because it focuses on the ideal condition (which never quite happens in real life) in which each and every household has maximised their utility, and each and every firm its profit. Static, because it does not deal with the time dimension. Specifically, it assumes out technical innovation.

Critiques to the notion of economic equilibrium aside, I would argue that, if you do take into conderation the time dimension and technical change, there is a third reason to discourage luxury consumption. This: luxury goods don’t change the world. They never did. They don’t create new market ecosystems; they don’t promote social mobility and diffused wealth. What does change the world is cheap goods. Not Bugatti or Rolls Royce, but Ford Model T and Fiat 600; not private yachts, but low cost airlines; not the satellite phones of yuppies in the 80s but 20$ GSM phones accessible to shepherds and farmers in Africa; not the wonderfully ornate manuscripts of the 15th century’s, but Aldus Manutius’s portable books and the printing press; not the IBM mainframe but the Apple Macintosh. Luxury objects are often beautiful, but they almost always embody a future identical to the past, with (simplifying quite a bit) wealthy families expanding their collection of gadgets, like father like son, and the rest of us lft to play the role of the admiring crowd, with various degrees of envy.

This is why I am wary of the Slow Food movement, and its ever-growing presence in the discourse on regional development in Italy. Basically, what they do is this: they take good local food specialties – of which we have so many in Italy. They are good, they are healthy, they are prepared by local people on the basis of tradition. They are the result of centuries of trial-and-error. And they are cheap: we come from a recent past of poverty. People don’t make a big deal of this food, they just get it and enjoy it. Slow Food hypes it up, puts a guarantee brand on it, and makes sure it is prepared and sold by academy trained chefs in the world’s business capitals. Prices go up ten- or twentyfold, and the food does not get any better (I should know – I come from a farming extended family in Emilia Romagna. Believe me, my female relatives are world class food experts).

It gets worse. The various certification of origins, quality guarantees and the like are the prerogative of food produce that is produced following certain protocols: so they don’t only certify what you are eating, but how it was made. And this is key, beause it blocks innovation. if you want the certification you need to to thigns exactly by the same book as everyone else. The conclusion is that truly excellent products are not certified. The greater wines have no controlled origin, because winemakers experiment with grapes from all over the place to make their wine better. Paradoxical? Not really: certifications are not about good food, they are about higher margins. If some genius were to make a Veuve Cliquot taste alike for $3 a bottle; or a good Parmesan substitute with camel milk for $6 a kilo, no certification body would give them the time of the day.

Wrapping up: Slow Food, as so much of the so called taste industry, is trying – quite successfully – to market as luxury consumptions a good, cheap way if eating , invented by our forefathers who had very little cash and a lot of inventiveness. In so doing, it reduces the potential for this food to reach the masses, who are left with junk food. Furthermore, it takes away the incentive for innovation, making marketing investment on certification that shield existing products against new ones. A technology equivalent could be a certification for newspapers written on typewriters rather than computers (Slow Writing), or one for public authorities who do not issue information or certification online (Slow Service). Looks like a dead loss to me – something that public policy should actively discourage. But maybe it’s just I’m not getting it.