Two weeks ago, as I was training for the Milano Relay Marathon, I received an unexpected email. It was from insurance company Europ Assistance, which offered all athletes discounts on its health insurance products. It came as a surprise, because I am careful to deny my consent to my data being used for marketing. I called the trainer of our group, who had taken care of entering us into the race, and he assured me he is very careful about that too. Maybe, he said, Europ Assistance got through the privacy barriers because it actually delivers a service to athletes: health insurance for the duration of the race. I got to the finishing line and there they were, measuring “health parameters” and, I am sure, promoting their products.

The rationale of an aggressive marketing towards long distance runners are clear. Insuring anyone who runs a marathon is profitable, because she is likely to be quite healthy and will be paying up for years before requiring that the insurer pays for treatment. I wonder if insurance companies are tempted by the reciprocal strategy, that of NOT insuring people who do not show up in the myriad databases associated with a healthy lifestyle (members of sport clubs, gym aficionados etc.). This kind of behavior is advantageous for its perpetrator (in this case insurance companies), but socially harmful (risk is not spread, and people who need care most can’t get it). Should this happen, private insurance would prove an inadequate solution to the health care of the citizenry, and policy makers should build and protect national health services.

Incidentally, the list of participants to the Milano Relay Marathon is far from the the most potentially momentous database from the point of view of the companies. Genomic startup 23andme sequences your DNA based on a sample received by mail, and computes your “risk factors” for 100 diseases — for $99. In the discussion on the social consequences of a pervasive Internet I see many people trying to scare their fellow citizens with stuff that most experts consider unfounded: we will unlearn to read any text longer than a tweet, we will shut ourselves in our homes to chat with strangers online instead of living the rich social life of our elders, we will bump into paedophiles and terrorists in every other social networking website. Internet skeptics are good at whistle blowing; they could be very useful to society by blowing the whistle for the real risks, like those associated with the inevitable loss of privacy on health data. And we that care about open data (and love data about our own running) had better meditate on whether transparency can become too much of a good thing.

Here is a more positive earlier post on running as mass generation and consumption of data)

One more week on the road for more Wikicrazia presentations. Tomorrow – Wednesday, April 7th – I am laying my home field at The Hub Milano: 6 p.m., so we have time for a happy hour (Facebook event).

Saturday, April 30th I will be in Capri for the Trendwatching Festival 2011. It looks like a more glamorous event than the ones I usually participate in; I don’t know what to expect exactly, but it seems that wiki style collaboration between authorities and citizens has been promoted to trend status. Works for me (Facebook event).

Speaking of Wikicrazia, recently an American publisher showed some interest in the book. I’d love him to read it, but there is a problem: he does not read Italian. So I tried a lateral approach, sending him English language links and materials; but in the end it felt like the core idea of the book was missing from those materials, and that is that Internet enables us to have an impact on society as individuals, not just as representatives of organizations. So I made this video, also a good way for me to celebrate Liberation Day (April 25th, the day the Nazi Army was kicked out of Italy by the partisans and the Allied armies – but the partisans came first in most cities). If you are curious about the sources, you can find them here.

Last Tuesday in Rome a wonderful thing happened: OpenSpending Italy — the first Italian contribution to the OpenSpending platform — was launched.

The data were there. They come from a dataset of consolidated public spending by region that the Department for Development Policies started gathering in 1998. They were already published in open format: the Department can rightfully take credit for it. Yet, I would argue that Tuesday’s launch marks an important step forward.

A step forward was made in accessibility to data. A very important, well maintained, comprehensive dataset on public spending is now accessible through advanced, interactive visualization, easy to compare with analogous international data. Even more interesting, it was published in widget form: anybody can copypaste the embed code anywhere she wants, like I did above.

But the more interesting step was made in the scope and diversity of collaboration that lead to this result. The data for OpenSpending Italy have been gathered, cleaned and associated to metadata by Italian civil servants in the Department for Development Policies and the State’s Accounting Service; processed by code written by British and German coders at Open Knowledge Foundation, a third sector organization; and published through the data journalism channels of Guardian Media, a British private business. The idea has been generated in the context of the meeting places of the Italian open data movement, and of a virtual meeting place in particular: the Spaghetti Open Data mailing list, born in September 2010 to provide civil servants and civic hackers with a constructive, respectful environment to talk about open data.

Thanks to this “managed diversity” (in the sense that trolling is not tolerated) SOD — like other places — allows people with complementary backgrounds and skills to meet up, explore each other, and maybe do something together. OpenSpending Italy was born from the collaboration of two wonderful civil servants, Aline Pennisi of the State Accounting Service and Simona De Luca of the Department for Development Policies, and civic hacker Stefano Costa of Open Knowledge Foundation Italy. Stefano got the international branch of OKF involved (Jonathan Gray and Friedrich Lindenberg need mentioning); and the latter enlisted Guardian Media (Simon Rogers, who — just like Gray — happened to be in Italy to participate in the Journalism Festival in Perugia). 72 hours later the data went live on OpenSpending’s first page and on the Guardian’s datablog.

This story, as I see it, has a clear implication: the Italian open data movement has come of age much faster than expected. Available datasets are growing; we are converging on standards of openness; we have visualization tools, physical and virtual meeting places, supporters in several administrations and ISTAT. We have friends overseas in the global open data movement, and we can and do collaborate with them as peers. We even have an emergent leadership: even as OpenSpending Italy was released, Aline was already working on a new project with OpenPolis and Open Linked Data Italy. Codenamed Open Budgets, it aims at making the budgets of more than 8000 Italian municipalities open and accessible. All this in a country perceived as indifferent, immobile, declining — with good reasons.

Me, I’m just happy and proud of the little I can give to the Italian open data movement, maintaining the SOD mailing list (I am the condominium’s janitor, so to speak). All together, civil servants, geeks and simply curious, committed people, we are showing that we can achieve some change for the good here and now, with the available resources and skills, without having to wait for some Global Change or a cultural singularity. May this attitude spread elsewhere in the public sphere. Heaven knows we need it.

Since last week I have the honor of contributing to American online magazine Government In The Lab (like Beth Noveck and many others). We got to a good start, with this post making the home page. Thanks to GITL CIO John Moore for his warm welcome, and to the necessary Luca Perugini for making the connection.

The week begins under the star of open data. Tonight – Monday, April 18th – the Spaghetti Open Data group meets up for the first Italian Data Drink to enjoy an happy hour together; symbolically, we are going to meet at Mokarabia in Piazza Fiume, where it all began. Everybody is welcome (map). Many of us are in Rome to participate in an event organized by the fine folks at Agorà Digitale in Parliament for Tuesday 19th. As fond of our spectacular mailing list as I am, I look forward to a physical gathering, and to strengthen our links with the global open data movement thanks to the many guests from abroad.

Meanwhile, in the U.S., the Obama administration is revising its strategy on networked participation of citizens to policy making. Over two years after the famous presidential memorandum, the “open government” denomination itself is being abandoned for a new one: Good Government (official site). Beth Noveck, former deputy CIO at the White House, agrees (I recommend reading the full post):

In retrospect, “open government” was a bad choice. It has generated too much confusion. Many people, even in the White House, still assume that open government means transparency about government [and lose sight of] collaboration informed by data.

On Tuesday 19th I’ll also find the time to do a little thing of my own: I am presenting my book Wikicrazia in Rome, in an event called “Coffee with…”. The format is intriguing: we meet up at 8.30 a.m. and discuss over breakfast, on the spectacular terrace of Reti‘s headquarters. It’s by invitation only: if you want to join us, let me know and I’ll try to get you invited.

I have resigned as director of Kublai, the first web 2.0 project of the Italian central administration. My directorship had been an interim one for the past year: the Department for development policies of the Ministry of economic development, Kublai’s home base administration, has initiated a procedure for launching its final year and recruiting a new director, but the procedure met several difficulties and is still pending, after more than a year. The officer in charge of Kublai, Tito Bianchi, had asked me to stay on and bridge this gap, so I ended up with an unpaid role of interim director. Meanwhile the Department itself had to face a crisis, not directly connected with Kublai; as a consequence, starting in February, Tito’s contract was not renewed. In this new situation I did not feel like I could stay on, even as an interim director. I still hang out in Kublai as a member of the community, and still learn a lot from Kublaians. I am extremely proud of the liveliness the community displays even in difficult times: in these ways we are discussing whether to spin it off from government project to the third sector. If it works, it will be very unique: a demand-driven policy spinoff! And even if it fails, it will make for an extraordinary experience trying it. I am very grateful to the Department for the opportunity to develop such an advanced project.

Over and above the role I played in it, Kublai’s story seems to be representative of a tough problem in public policy: administrations find it hard to manage the interface with the online communities they collaborate with – even if they originate them. Online public policies can be incredibly efficient, because they enable citizens to contribute by taking actions — I should know, since I have designed and delivered more than one. In March 2009, ten months after kickoff, an independent study showed that two thirds of the comments feeding into business plans writing came from the community itself, and only one third fron the project’s paid staff. The key to high efficiency is the community’s activism, and community ties can break down if they are not lovingly maintained. A decrease in the credibility of the founding group, or even simply a slump in alertness, might take away the motivation to participate at any time.

In the last few years I spent a lot of time thinking very hard about policy communities, especiallty those that live online, and I learned much. It turns out that running them effectively requires some conditions to be met:

• an adequate planning horizon; if you need three years to build a resilient community, you have to have three years of guaranteed operations. Stopping before achieving your goals means wasting all of the resources invested.
• radical transparency: access to what goes on behind the scenes has to be allowed to those interested (and not imposed to those who are not). Active participation requires participants to feel ownership of the project, and we don’t feel that if we think we are not being told the whole story.
• low costs: a project based on voluntary work needs to show volunteers that its staff brings to the table a value worth the resources paid to it in salaries. This is a sensitive point, because the collaboration between staff and community is inherently unequal — we collaborate, but I get paid and you don’t — but, if the staff works well and hard, it is still acceptable. Justifying high overheads, on the other hand, is really hard. Every penny that goes down that route instead of the project’s own activities weakens its credibility.
• fast delivery, with little or no timeline uncertainty, and therefore streamlined procedures. Social dynamics in online communities are fast and inherently emergent, which means you cannot control them top-down. When stuff happens, it happens, and you have to act. If something needs doing now, you need to be able to go out and do it now. If this is not possible, you need to commit to a date for it to get done. “We don’t know, we are waiting for a green light From On High” destroys credibility, hence participation, hence efficiency,
• lowering the barriers between paid staff and the community. People participating to an online community on a voluntary basis make great candidates to become its staffers. They know it well and love it, they share its meeting places and times. conversely, many public sector employees are harnessed by rigid office hours and badges that keep track of the time they spend in the office; many more are sequestered behind corporate firewalls that inhibit the use of social networks (major tools of this particular trade). Requiring a person in this situation to work on a project like Kublai means asking for trouble.
• All of the above requires a lot of management leeway; this makes it inevitable that the assessment of these projects is carried out by weighing its results rather than checking its conformity to procedure.

Unfortunately, these conditions do not match well with the work style commended to Weberian bureaucracies — and most public administrations are Weberian bureaucracies. In the case of Kublai:

• it has not been possible to guarantee the planning horizon. As we prepared to launch, the Department decided to unbundle it into three steps, one per year. The reason: a three-year project would have required a European tendering process, that was estimated would require a year and a half. The results: at the second year the project was funded, but in a way that undermined its effectiveness (see below) and with a gap of three months for formally reinitiating the project and seven months to actually go out and do stuff; for the third year we designed an architecture that was on paper more effective and used two delivery channels, but one of them was never initiated. My personal history is a sign of the stop-and-go nature of administrative processes: I directed Kublai for three years, and I had a regular contract for a total of sixteen months. The remaining twenty months were interim.
• full transparency is technically difficult. Even when public decision makers have the best intentions, they live in a system so complicated as to be incomprehensible for the uninitiated. For example, Kublai’s first year was delivered through an in-house company of the State, Studiare Sviluppo. In its second year, the Department’s legal office changed its mind and claimed that would not be possible: though Studiare Sviluppo and the Department itself have a common origin in the Ministry of the economy, the creation of the Ministry of economic development in 2006 (which contains the Department, but not Studiare Sviluppo) had created a rift between the two organizations. Delivery would have to go through Invitalia, another in-house of the State. This distinction is difficult to understand, so much that it remains controversial within the Department: in 2009 some of its programmes continued to flow through Studiare Sviluppo, but not Kublai. How do you tell a story like this in the “About” page?
• costs tend to balloon. Kublai 2009 had a higher budget than its 2008 version, but its effectivess seemed to decrease. Why? Partly because the overhead had gone up. Studiare Sviluppo charges 15% of the project’s budget to take care of all the administrative details; Invitalia’s overhead is more difficult to estimate and it varies from one project to another; with exceptions, it seems to oscillate between 30 and 40% (source: talks with several employees and former employees of the Department. I asked Invitalia for a precise figure, and am waiting for a precise figure).
• decision making always takes a long time, and it is always subject to uncertainty. To give you an idea, Kublai 3 should have started in January 2010. The idea was to activate a project, led by Invitalia, and use that as co-financing of a larger project, funded by the European Regional Development Fund. This, however, would have required a change in Invitalia’s accounting system (in ERDF projects human labor must be accounted for as a direct cost, excluding overhead). In May we realized that Invitalia could not or would not make this change fast enough (I’m told they are still in the process). Tito had to initiate a second procedure which tapped into a different financial source; this new procedure was launched in June, but moved very slowly, with a lot of backtracking and all kind of pitfalls springing up, without us apparently being able to see them coming and avoid them. We thought it would be over in September, then in November, then in February, and we turned out to be wrong every time. In February Tito and I agreed to come out. The truth is that no one can tell what will happen and when.
• in Kublai’s first year we used Studiare Sviluppo’s flexibility to recruit our staff directly from the community. We used very small contracts that recognized and encouraged voluntary work without forcing creatives to turn themselves into consultants to the public sector to work at Kublai. The vision behind this was to lower the barriers between “professionals” and “committed citizens”, and to build an ethics of fairness, where it could not happen that two people would be doing more or less the same work with one of them getting paid and the other one working for free. Starting in 2009 this process stopped: Invitalia’s internal rules dictate that only a small part of a project’s budget can be outsourced (15% of the budget in the case of Kublai); what’s more, it’s normal for recruitment procedures to take months, and even the smallest contract has to be signed by the CEO. Result: the administrative load of many small contracts was simply unsustainable. We had to retreat into a polarized version of the staff: on one side professional business plan advisors (public or quasi-public employees, who typically appreciate the stability a steady job gives them, and have little or no firsthand experience of business creation, let alone in the creative sectors), on the other side the creatives from the community, that we could not even cover travel expenses of if they held a presentation about Kublai at a creative industry event.
• as for evaluation, Tito and I built a structured evaluation activity into Kublai 3, but that’s stuck with the rest of the project: the project is at risk not to be assessed at all.

With all of these problems, it is a wonder that the project was not born dead! If we we got anything at all done (2500 members, 400 projects being discussed and tens of businesses launched are an important result after all) is because some people poured an unreasonable amount of work and passion into Kublai. My staff was very generous, turning from paid staffers to volunteers when contracts expired and were not renewed (I absolutely need to quote Cristina Di Luca, Walter Giacovelli and Marco Colarossi); the officials in charge for Kublai at the Department (Paola Casavola, at the time the director general who made the initial decision, Tito Bianchi, Marco Magrassi and Giampiero Marchesi above all) have been visionary leaders from the policy maker’s side (Tito in particular has really put himself on the line for Kublai); Alfredo Scalzo at Studiare Sviluppo and Nicola Salvi, Federico Venceslai, Angelita Levato and Danila Sansone at Invitalia used all the autonomy their respective organizations allowed them to try and meet this project’s special needs. We have been a kind of pirate ship, part Luke Skywalker and part Dilbert: I remember Nicola posting from his own laptop and through the neighbor’s open wi-fi, because the corporate firewall would not allow him access to Second Life. Despite all of this commitment, we were a competent and motivated crew sailing a leaking ship. When the work input of the non-Invitalia staff, — the least embedded in bureaucratic procedures and way of thinking — was discontinued, Kublai clearly lost momentum.

A conclusion I drew from this extraordinary experience is that the interface between bureaucracy and network is not easy to navigate. Kublai can be viewed as an attempt to coproduce and codeliver a public service — assistance towards business creation — traditionally delivered (not too well) by local offices. It is a very hot theme: it is, for example, one of the key themes of NESTA’s Public Services Lab, that I have been in conversation with lately. From my vantage point at the Council of Europe, all European governments are moving in this direction, to defend the welfare state in the face of a structural fiscal crisis. I predict it will be difficult to get lasting results if the conditions I listed won’t be guaranteed.

I see only a way that they can be guaranteed: a new deal between government and the women and men who work for it. Such a new deal would work like this: administrations have to give trust and breathing space to their servants, be they employees or consultants like myself; and then assess their results, rewarding people who get results and punishing people who don’t. If there are abuses of that trust, they will be dealt with on a case-by-case basis: designing an entire system to prevent abuse is at a high risk to making it too rigid, disabling people to offer their best ideas. Designers of social media have a mantra: if you design a space to deal with trolls, your users will be trolls. Similarly, if you design a system to harness lazy or corrupt employees, your best staff members, frustrated and humiliated, will leave, and you will be left with the lazy and corrupt ones. It’s time to make choices; who will future public policy be designed for?

My students at the Design for Social Business Master made me very proud last week with a clever reverse engineering of a (social) business plan based on nothing more than a set of slides intended as a brief for the graphic design of a website – and a whole lot of online investigation. The business plan in question is that of Bienestar, a health care initiative in the region of Caldas (Colombia) just being rolled out by the provincial authority and Grameen Creative Lab. This is supposed to be the focus of a forthcoming field visit of the students to Colombia; apparently Bienestar has no business plan (we asked), and the brief was all we had to work with.

With no business planning background at all — save for my own lecture — Alessandra, Barbara, Chiara, Mandy, Oscar, Simona and Tiago showed a remarkable ability to stake the territory. They combed the web for data like minimum salary in rural Colombia; the structure of health care, including recent changes in legislation; and the state of the road networks in the Caldas region, to get a feel for the logistics of traveling to Villa Maria to get treated. All of these data were used to generate a critical appraisal of the business plan as they reconstructed it from the brief. This appraisal was put in a document that visualizes cleverly GCL’s approach and the students’ own questions and critique. Besides being clever in itself, this document was written by a very advanced process of online collaboration; the students made the most of my lecture about it, and have become power users of the new Google Docs (it now embeds very cool features from Google Wave — and man, do they use them all).

Armed with that, we figured out what the economic engine that makes Bienestar sustainable is: treatment of new patients, that now are completely outside the system; moreover, these patients have to be fundamentally healthy, like pregnant women and children — it can’t work with patients with chronic diseaes. Now the students are putting figures to that, and have thus found a new mission: when they go to Colombia, they can be the business planning experts of Bienestar. They are already way ahead of GCL on this project!

If you are interested in social business and social innovation, I would really encourage to check out the course’s blog, and maybe drop a comment to say hello: they are really cool people, well worth knowing, and very friendly. The blog is in English, but they are a pretty international crowd and welcome comments in Spanish, Portuguese, Romanian, Arabic and Italian as well.

WOMEX — as in World Music Expo — is the most important European meeting place for world music professionals: part market place, part festival, part conference. Last year it was attended by almost 2.500 delegates and 1.300 companies from 94 countries. I have been attending for years: it has been a valuable tool of the trade for Fiamma Fumana. Each year WOMEX selects the best proposals for showcases and conference talks; the choice is handed over to a juty of seven individuals, nicknamed “the Seven Samurai” in Womexican parlance.

This year I have the honour of riding with the samurai. I have been appointed as one the jurors tasked with planning the conference. I would be really glad to select high quality talks that show delegates where music is going, between mutations in its business models, its ever-evolving digital ecology, its cultural tensions between roots and global modernity; and that inspire their work in the future. I would like to invite anybody who has an experience to show, a contribution to the discussion or just an original point of view to submit their proposal before April 15th: my fellow samurai Jody Gillett (chief editor of Mondomix) and I will invite the author of the best proposals to Copenhagen, come October, for a discussion on the state of the art of music and its business. See here for instructions on how to submit a proposal. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any question, and to spread the word to whoever you think might be interested.