Policies and initiatives to promote U.S. manufacturing would be well advised to take a value chain perspective of this economic sector. Currently, our economic statistics do not include pre-production services to manufacturing such as research and development or design or post-production services such as repair and maintenance or sales. Yet, manufacturing firms invest heavily in these services because they are crucial to the success of their business. 

In a new paper, Kate Whitefoot and Walter Valdivia offer a fresh insight into the sector’s labor composition and trends by examining employment in manufacturing from a value chain perspective. While the manufacturing sector shed millions of jobs in the 2002-2010 period—a period that included the Great Recession—employment in upstream services expanded 26 percent for market analysis, 13 percent for research and development, and 23 percent for design and technical services. Average wages for these services increased over 10 percent in that period. Going forward, this pattern is likely to be repeated. Technical occupations, particularly in upstream segments are expected to have the largest increases in employment and wages.

In light of the findings, the authors offer the following recommendations: 

• Federal manufacturing policy: Expand PCAST’s Advanced Manufacturing Partnership recommendations—specifically, for developing a national system of certifications for production skills and establishing a national apprenticeship program for skilled trades in manufacturing—to include jobs outside the factory such as those in research and development, design and technical services, and market analysis.
• Higher education: Institutions of higher education should consider some adjustment to their curriculum with a long view of the coming changes to high-skill occupations, particularly with respect to problem identification and the management of uncertainty in highly automated work environments. In addition, universities and colleges should disseminate information among prospect and current students about occupations where the largest gains of employment and higher wage premiums are expected. 
• Improve national statistics: Supplement the North American Industry Classification System (NAICS) with data that permits tracking the entire value chain, including the development of a demand-based classification system. This initiative could benefit from adding survey questions to replicate the data collection of countries with a Value Added Tax—without introducing the tax, that is—allowing in this manner a more accurate estimation of the value added by each participant in a production network.

Whitefoot and Valdivia stress that any collective efforts aimed at invigorating manufacturing must seize the opportunities throughout the entire value chain including upstream and downstream services to production.

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Technical change is advancing at a breakneck speed while the institutions that govern innovative activity slog forward trying to keep pace. The lag has created a need for reform in the governance of innovation. Reformers who focus primarily on the social benefits of innovation propose to unmoor the innovative forces of the market. Conversely, those who deal mostly with innovation’s social costs wish to constrain it by introducing regulations in advance of technological developments. In this paper, Walter Valdivia and David Guston argue for a different approach to reform the governance of innovation that they call "Responsible Innovation" because it seeks to imbue in the actors of the innovation system a more robust sense of individual and collective responsibility.

Responsible innovation appreciates the power of free markets in organizing innovation and realizing social expectations but is self-conscious about the social costs that markets do not internalize. At the same time, the actions it recommends do not seek to slow down innovation because they do not constrain the set of options for researchers and businesses, they expand it. Responsible innovation is not a doctrine of regulation and much less an instantiation of the precautionary principle. Innovation and society can evolve down several paths and the path forward is to some extent open to collective choice. The aim of a responsible governance of innovation is to make that choice more consonant with democratic principles.

Valdivia and Guston illustrate how responsible innovation can be implemented with three practical initiatives: 

1. Industry: Incorporating values and motivations to innovation decisions that go beyond the profit motive could help industry take on a long-view of those decisions and better manage its own costs associated with liability and regulation, while reducing the social cost of negative externalities. Consequently, responsible innovation should be an integral part of corporate social responsibility, considering that the latter has already become part of the language of business, from the classroom to the board room, and that is effectively shaping, in some quarters, corporate policies and decisions.
2. Universities and National Laboratories: Centers for Responsible Innovation, fashioned after the institutional reform of Internal Review Boards to protect human subjects in research and the Offices of Technology Transfer created to commercialize academic research, could organize existing responsible innovation efforts at university and laboratory campuses. These Centers would formalize the consideration of impacts of research proposals on legal and regulatory frameworks, economic opportunity and inequality, sustainable development and the environment, as well as ethical questions beyond the integrity of research subjects.
3. Federal Government: Federal policy should improve its protections and support of scientific research while providing mechanisms of public accountability for research funding agencies and their contractors. Demanding a return on investment for every research grant is a misguided approach that devalues research and undermines trust between Congress and the scientific community. At the same time, scientific institutions and their advocates should improve public engagement and demonstrate their willingness and ability to be responsive to societal concerns and expectations about the public research agenda. Second, if scientific research is a public good, by definition, markets are not effective commercializing it. New mechanisms to develop practical applications from federal research with little market appeal should be introduced to counterbalance the emphasis the current technology transfer system places on research ready for the market. Third, federal innovation policy needs to be better coordinated with other federal policy, including tax, industrial, and trade policy as well as regulatory regimes. It should also improve coordination with initiatives at the local and state level to improve the outcomes of innovation for each region, state, and metro area.

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NASA’s Asteroid Initiative encompasses efforts for the human exploration of asteroids—as well as the Asteroid Grand Challenge—to enhance asteroid detection capabilities and mitigate their threat to Earth. The human space flight portion of the initiative primarily includes the Asteroid Redirect Mission (ARM), which is a proposal to put an asteroid in orbit of the moon and send astronauts to it. The program originally contemplated two alternatives for closer study: capturing a small 10m diameter asteroid versus simply recovering a boulder from a much larger asteroid. Late in March, NASA offered an update of its plans. It has decided to retrieve a boulder from an asteroid near Earth’s orbit—candidates are the asteroids 2008 EV5, Bennu, and Itokawa—and will place the boulder on the moon’s orbit to further study it.

This mission will help NASA develop a host of technical capabilities. For instance, Solar Electric Propulsion uses solar electric power to charge atoms for spacecraft propulsion—in the absence of gravity, even a modicum of force can alter the trajectory of a body in outer space. Another related capability under development is the gravity tractor, which is based on the notion that even the modest mass of a spacecraft can exert sufficient gravitational force over an asteroid to ever so slightly change its orbit. The ARM spacecraft mass could be further increased by its ability to capture a boulder from the asteroid that is steering clear of the Earth, enabling a test of how humans might prevent asteroid threats in the future. Thus, NASA will have a second test of how to deflect near-Earth objects on a hazardous trajectory. The first test, implemented as part of the Deep Impact Mission, is a kinetic impactor; that is, crashing a spacecraft on an approaching object to change its trajectory.

The Asteroid Initiative is a partner of the agency’s Near Earth Object Observation (NEOO) program. The goal of this program is to discover and monitor space objects traveling on a trajectory that could pose the risk of hitting Earth with catastrophic effects. The program also seeks to develop mitigation strategies. The capabilities developed by ARM could also support other programs of NASA, such as the manned exploration of Mars.

NEOO has recently enjoyed an uptick of public support. It used to be funded at about $4 million in the 1990s and in 2010 was allocated a paltry $6 million. But then, a redirection of priorities—linked to the transition from the Bush to the Obama administrations—increased funding for NEOO to about $20 million in 2012 and $40 million in 2014—and NASA is seeking $50 million for 2015. It is clear that NASA officials made a compelling case for the importance of NEOO; in fact, what they are asking seems quite a modest amount if indeed asteroids pose an existential risk to life on earth. At the same time, the instrumental importance of the program and the public funds devoted to it beg the question as to whether taxpayers should have a say in the decisions NASA is making regarding how to proceed with the program.

NASA has done something remarkable to help answer this question.

Last November, NASA partnered with the ECAST network (Expert and Citizen Assessment of Science and Technology) to host a citizen forum assessing the Asteroid Initiative. ECAST is a consortium of science policy and advocacy organizations which specializes in citizen deliberations on science policy. The forum consisted of a dialogue with 100 citizens in Phoenix and Boston who learned more about the asteroid initiative and then commented on various aspects of the project.

The participants, who were selected to approximate the demographics of the U.S. population, were asked to assess mitigation strategies to protect against asteroids. They were introduced to four strategies: civil defense, gravity tractor, kinetic impactor, and nuclear blast deflection. As part of the deliberations, they were asked to consider the two aforementioned approaches to perform ARM. A consensus emerged about the boulder retrieval option primarily because citizens thought that option offered better prospects for developing planetary defense technologies.  This preference existed despite the excitement of capturing a full asteroid, which could potentially have additional economic impacts. The participants showed interest in promoting the development of mitigation capabilities at least as much as they wanted to protect traditional NASA goals such as the advancement of science and space flight technology. This is not surprising given that concerns about doomsday should reasonably take precedence over traditional research and exploration concerns.

NASA could have decided to set ARM along the path of boulder retrieval exclusively on technical merits, but having conducted a citizen forum, the agency is now able to claim that this decision is also socially robust, which is to say, is responsive to public values of consensus. In this manner, NASA has shown a promising method by which research mission federal agencies can increase their public accountability.

In the same spirit of responsible research and innovation, a recent Brookings paper I authored with David Guston—who is a co-founder of ECAST—proposes a number of other innovative ways in which the innovation enterprise can be made more responsive to public values and social expectations.

Kudos to NASA for being at the forefront of innovation in space exploration and public accountability.

      

Tuesday night, President Obama presented four critical questions about the future of America and I should like to comment on the first two:

1. How to produce equal opportunity, emphasizing economic security for all.
2. In his words, “how do we make technology work for us, and not against us,” particularly to meet the “urgent challenges” of our days.

The challenges the president wishes to meet by means of technological development are climate change and cancer. Let’s consider cancer first. There are plenty of reasons to be skeptical: this is not the first presidential war against cancer, President Nixon tried that once and, alas cancer still has the upper hand. It is ironic that Mr. Obama chose this particular ”moonshot”, because not only are the technical aspects of cancer more uncertain than those of space travel, political support for the project is vastly different and we cannot be sure that even another Democrat in the White House would see this project to fruition. In effect, neither Mr. Obama nor his appointed “mission control”, Vice President Biden, have time in office to see fruits from their efforts on this front.

The second challenge the president wishes to address with technology is problematic beyond technical and economic feasibility (producing renewable energy at competitive prices); curbing carbon emissions has become politically intractable. The president correctly suggested that being leaders in the renewable energy markets of the future makes perfect business sense, even for global warming skeptics. Nevertheless, markets have a political economy, and current energy giants have a material interest in not allowing any changes to the rules that so favor them (including significant federal subsidies). Only when the costs of exploration, extraction, and distribution of fossil fuels rise above those of renewable sources, we can expect policy changes enabling an energy transition to become feasible. When renewables are competitive on a large scale, it is not very likely that their production will be controlled by new industrial players. Such is the political economy of free markets. What’s more, progressives should be wary of standard solutions that would raise the cost of energy (such as a tax on carbon emissions), because low income families are quite sensitive to energy prices; the cost of electricity, gas, and transportation is a far larger proportion of their income than that of their wealthier neighbors.

It’s odd that the president proposes technological solutions to challenges that call for a political solution. Again, in saying this, I’m allowing for the assumption that the technical side is manageable, which is not necessarily a sound assumption to make. The technical and economic complexity of these problems should only compound political hurdles. If I’m skeptical that technological fixes would curb carbon emissions or cure cancer, I am simply vexed by the president’s answer to the question on economic opportunity and security: expand the safety net. It is not that it wouldn’t work; it worked wonders creating prosperity and enlarging the middle-class in the post-World War II period. The problem is that enacting welfare state policies promises to be a hard political battle that, even if won, could result in pyrrhic victories. The greatest achievement of Mr. Obama expanding the safety net was, of course, the Affordable Care Act. But his policy success came at a very high cost: a majority of the voters have questions about the legitimacy of that policy. Even its eponymous name, Obamacare, was coined as a term of derision. It is bizarre that opposition to this reform is often found amidst people who benefit from it. We can blame the systematic campaign against it in every electoral contest, the legal subterfuges brought up to dismantle it (that ACA survived severely bruised), and the AM radio vitriol, but even controlling for the dirty war on healthcare reform, passing such as monumental legislation strictly across party lines has made it the lighting rod of distrust in government.

Progressives are free to try to increase economic opportunity following the welfare state textbook. They will meet the same opposition that Mr. Obama encountered. However, where progressives and conservatives could agree is about increasing opportunities for entrepreneurs, and nothing gives an edge to free enterprise more than innovation. Market competition is the selection mechanism by which an elite of enterprises rises from a legion created any given year; this elite, equipped with a new productive platform, can arm-wrestle markets from the old guard of incumbents. This is not the only way innovation takes place: monopolies and cartels can produce innovation, but with different outcomes. In competitive markets, innovation is the instrument of product differentiation; therefore, it improves quality and cuts consumer prices. In monopolistic markets, innovation also takes place, but generally as a monopolist’s effort to raise barriers to entry and secure high profits. Innovation can take place preserving social protections to the employees of the new industries, or it can undermine job security of its labor force (a concern with the sharing economy). These different modes of innovation are a function of the institutions that govern innovation, including industrial organization, labor and consumer protections.

What the President did not mention is that question two can answer question one: technological development can improve economic opportunity and security, and that is likely to be more politically feasible than addressing the challenges of climate change and cancer. Shaping the institutions that govern innovative activity to favor modes of innovation that benefit a broad base of society is an achievable goal, and could indeed be a standard by which his and future administrations are measured. This is so because these are not the province of the welfare state. They are policy domains that have historically enjoyed bipartisan consensus (such as federal R&D funding, private R&D tax credits) or low contestation (support for small business, tech transfer, loan guarantees).

As Mr. Obama himself suggested, technology can be indeed be made to work for us, all of us.

       

A review essay of “Governance of Socio-technical Systems: Explaining Change”, edited by Susana Borrás and Jakob Edler (Edward Elgar, 2014, 207 pages).

Phasing-out a useful and profitable technology

I own a Nokia 2330; it’s a small brick phone that fits comfortably in the palm of my hand. People have feelings about this: mostly, they marvel at my ability to survive without a smart-phone. Concerns go beyond my wellbeing; once a friend protested that I should be aware of the costs I impose onto my friends, for instance, by asking them for precise directions to their houses. Another suggested that I cease trying to be smarter than my phone. But my reason is simple: I don’t need a smart phone. Most of the time, I don’t even need a mobile phone. I can take and place calls from my home or my office. And who really needs a phone during their commute? Still, my device will meet an untimely end. My service provider has informed me via text message that it will phase out all 2G service and explicitly encouraged me to acquire a 3G or newer model. 

There is a correct if simplistic explanation for this announcement: my provider is not making enough money with my account and should I switch to a newer device, they will be able to sell me a data plan. The more accurate and more complex explanation is that my mobile device is part of a communications system that is integrated to other economic and social systems. As those other systems evolve, my device is becoming incompatible with them; my carrier has determined that I should be integrated.

The system integration is easy to understand from a business perspective. My carrier may very well be able to make a profit keeping my account as is, and the accounts of the legion of elderly and low-income customers who use similar devices, and still they may not find it advantageous in the long run to allow 2G devices in their network. To understand this business strategy, we need to go back no farther than the introduction of the iPhone, which in addition to being the most marketable mobile phone set a new standard platform for mobile devices. Its introduction accelerated a trend underway in the core business of carriers: the shift from voice communication to data streaming because smart phones can support layers of overlapping services that depend on fast and reliable data transfer. These services include sophisticated log capabilities, web search, geo-location, connectivity to other devices, and more recently added bio-monitoring. All those services are part of systems of their own, so it makes perfect business sense for carriers to seamlessly integrate mobile communications with all those other systems. Still, the economic rationale explains only a fraction of the systems integration underway.

The communication system of mobile telephony is also integrated with regulatory, social, and cultural systems. Consider the most mundane examples: It’s hard to imagine anyone who, having shifted from paper-and-pencil to an electronic agenda, decided to switch back afterwards. We are increasingly dependent of GPS services; while it may have once served tourists who did not wish to learn how to navigate a new city, it is now a necessity for many people who without it are lost in their home town. Not needing to remember phone numbers, the time of our next appointment, or how to go back to that restaurant we really liked, is a clear example of the integration of mobile devices into our value systems.

There are coordination efforts and mutual accommodation taking place: tech designers seek to adapt to changing values and we update our values to the new conveniences of slick gadgets. Government officials are engaged in the same mutual accommodation. They are asking how many phone booths must be left in public places, how to reach more people with public service announcements, and how to provide transit information in real-time when commuters need it. At the same time, tech designers are considering all existing regulations so their devices are compliant. Communication and regulatory systems are constantly being re-integrated.

The will behind systems integration

The integration of technical and social systems that results from innovation demands an enormous amount of planning, effort, and conflict resolution. The people involved in this process come from all quarters of the innovation ecology, including inventors, entrepreneurs, financiers, and government officials. Each of these agents may not be able to contemplate the totality of the system integration problem but they more or less understand how their respective system must evolve so as to be compatible with interrelated systems that are themselves evolving.  There is a visible willfulness in the integration task that scholars of innovation call the governance of socio-technical systems.

Introducing the term governance, I should emphasize that I do not mean merely the actions of governments or the actions of entrepreneurs. Rather, I mean the effort of all agents involved in the integration and re-integration of systems triggered by innovation; I mean all the coordination and mutual accommodation of agents from interrelated systems. And there is no single vehicle to transport all the relevant information for these agents. A classic representation of markets suggests that prices carry all the relevant information agents need to make optimal decisions. But it is impossible to project this model onto innovation because, as I suggested above, it does not adhere exclusively to economic logic; cultural and political values are also at stake. The governance task is therefore fragmented into pieces and assigned to each of the participants of the socio-technical systems involved, and they cannot resolve it as a profit-maximization problem. 

Instead, the participants must approach governance as a problem of design where the goal could be characterized as reflexive adaptation. By adaptation I mean seeking to achieve inter-system compatibility. By reflexive I mean that each actor must realize that their actions trigger adaption measures in other systems. Thus, they cannot passively adapt but rather they must anticipate the sequence of accommodations in the interaction with other agents. This is one of the most important aspects of the governance problem, because all too often neither technical nor economic criteria will suffice; quite regularly coordination must be negotiated, which is to say, innovation entails politics.

The idea of governance of socio-technical systems is daunting. How do we even begin to understand it? What kinds of modes of governance exist? What are the key dimensions to understand the integration of socio-technical systems? And perhaps more pressing, who prevails in disputes about coordination and accommodation? Fortunately, Susana Borrás, from the Copenhagen Business School, and Jakob Edler, from the University of Manchester, both distinguished professors of innovation, have collected a set of case studies that shed light on these problems in an edited volume entitled Governance of Socio-technical Change: Explaining Change. What is more, they offer a very useful conceptual framework of governance that is worth reviewing here. While this volume will be of great interest to scholars of innovation—and it is written in scholarly language—I think it has great value for policymakers, entrepreneurs, and all agents involved in a practical manner in the work of innovation.

Organizing our thinking on the governance of change

The first question that Borrás and Edler tackle is how to characterize the different modes of governance. They start out with a heuristic typology across the two central categories: what kinds of agents drive innovation and how the actions of these agents are coordinated. Agents can represent the state or civil society, and actions can be coordinated via dominant or non-dominant hierarchies.

	Change led by state actors	Change led by societal actors
Coordination by dominant hierarchies	Traditional deference to technocratic competence: command and control.	Monopolistic or oligopolistic industrial organization.
Coordination by non-dominant hierarchies	State agents as primus inter pares.	More competitive industries with little government oversight.

Source: Adapted from Borrás and Adler (2015), Table 1.2, p. 13.

This typology is very useful to understand why different innovative industries have different dynamics; they are governed differently. For instance, we can readily understand why consumer software and pharmaceuticals are so at odds regarding patent law. The strict (and very necessary) regulation of drug production and commercialization coupled with the oligopolistic structure of that industry creates the need and opportunity to advocate for patent protection; which is equivalent to a government subsidy. In turn, the highly competitive environment of consumer software development and its low level of regulation foster an environment where patents hinder innovation. Government intervention is neither needed nor wanted; the industry wishes to regulate itself.

This typology is also useful to understand why open source applications have gained currency much faster in the consumer segment than the contractor segment of software producers. Examples of the latter is industry specific software (e.g. to operate machinery, the stock exchange, and ATMs) or software to support national security agencies. These contractors demand proprietary software and depend on the secrecy of the source code. The software industry is not monolithic, and while highly innovative in all its segments, the innovation taking place varies greatly by its mode of governance.

Furthermore, we can understand the inherent conflicts in the governance of science. In principle, scientists are led by curiosity and organize their work in a decentralized and organic fashion. In practice, most of science is driven by mission-oriented governmental agencies and is organized in a rigid hierarchical system. Consider the centrality of prestige in science and how it is awarded by peer-review; a system controlled by the top brass of each discipline. There is nearly an irreconcilable contrast between the self-image of science and its actual governance. Using the Borrás-Edler typology, we could say that scientists imagine themselves as citizens of the south-east quadrant while they really inhabit the north-west quadrant.

There are practical lessons from the application of this typology to current controversies. For instance, no policy instrument such as patents can have the same effect on all innovation sectors because the effect will depend on the mode of governance of the sector. This corollary may sound intuitive, yet it really is at variance with the current terms of the debate on patent protection, where assertions of its effect on innovation, in either direction, are rarely qualified.

The second question Borrás and Edler address is that of the key analytical dimensions to examine socio-technical change. To this end, they draw from an ample selection of social theories of change. First, economists and sociologists fruitfully debate the advantage of social inquiry focused on agency versus institutions. Here, the synthesis offered is reminiscent of Herbert Simon’s “bounded rationality”, where the focus turns to agent decisions constrained by institutions. Second, policy scholars as well as sociologists emphasize the engineering of change. Change can be accomplished with discreet instruments such as laws and regulations, or diffused instruments such as deliberation, political participation, and techniques of conflict resolution. Third, political scientists underscore the centrality of power in the adjudication of disputes produced by systems’ change and integration. Borrás and Edler have condensed these perspectives in an analytical framework that boils down to three clean questions: who drives change? (focus on agents bounded by institutions), how is change engineered? (focus on instrumentation), and why it is accepted by society? (focus on legitimacy). The case studies contained in this edited volume illustrate the deployment of this framework with empirical research.

Standards, sustainability, incremental innovation

Arthur Daemmrich (Chapter 3) tells the story of how the German chemical company BASF succeeded marketing the biodegradable polymer Ecoflex. It is worth noting the dependence of BASF on government funding to develop Ecoflex, and on the German Institute for Standardization (DIN), making a market by setting standards. With this technology, BASF capitalized on the growing demand in Germany for biodegradables, and with its intense cooperation with DIN helped establish a standard that differentiate Ecoflex from the competition. By focusing on the enterprise (the innovation agent) and its role in engineering the market for its product by setting standards that would favor them, this story reveals the process of legitimation of this new technology. In effect, the certification of DIN was accepted by agribusinesses that sought to utilize biodegradable products.

If BASF is an example of innovation by standards, Allison Loconto and Marc Barbier (Chapter 4) show the strategies of governing by standards. They take the case of the International Social and Environmental Accreditation and Labelling alliance (ISEAL). ISEAL, an advocate of sustainability, positions itself as a coordinating broker among standard developing organizations by offering “credibility tools” such as codes of conduct, best practices, impact assessment methods, and assurance codes. The organization advocates what is known as the tripartite system regime (TSR) around standards. TSR is a system of checks and balances to increase the credibility of producers complying with standards. The TSR regime assigns standard-setting, certification, and accreditation of the certifiers, to separate and independent bodies. The case illustrates how producers, their associations, and broker organizations work to bestow upon standards their most valuable attribute: credibility. The authors are cautious not to conflate credibility with legitimacy, but there is no question that credibility is part of the process of legitimizing technical change. In constructing credibility, these authors focus on the third question of the framework –legitimizing innovation—and from that vantage point, they illuminate the role of actors and instruments that will guide innovations in sustainability markets.

While standards are instruments of non-dominant hierarchies, the classical instrument of dominant hierarchies is regulation. David Barberá-Tomás and Jordi Molas-Gallart tell the tragic consequences of an innovation in hip-replacement prosthesis that went terribly wrong. It is estimated that about 30 thousand replaced hips failed. The FDA, under the 1976 Medical Device Act, allows incremental improvements in medical devices to go into the market after only laboratory trials, assuming that any substantive innovations have already being tested in regular clinical trials. This policy was designed as an incentive for innovation, a relief from high regulatory costs. However, the authors argue, when products have been constantly improved for a number of years after an original release, any marginal improvement comes at a higher cost or higher risk—a point they refer to as the late stage of the product life-cycle. This has tilted the balance in favor of risky improvements, as illustrated by the hip prosthesis case. The story speaks to the integration of technical and cultural systems: the policy that encourages incremental innovation may alter the way medical device companies assess the relative risk of their innovations, precisely because they focus on incremental improvements over radical ones. Returning to the analytical framework, the vantage point of regulation—instrumentation—elucidates the particular complexities and biases in agents’ decisions.

Two additional case studies discuss the discontinuation of the incandescent light bulb (ILB) and the emergence of translational research, both in Western Europe. The first study, authored by Peter Stegmaier, Stefan Kuhlmann and Vincent R. Visser (Chapter 6), focuses on a relatively smooth transition. There was wide support for replacing ILBs that translated in political will and a market willing to purchase new energy efficient bulbs. In effect, the new technical system was relatively easy to re-integrate to a social system in change—public values had shifted in Europe to favor sustainable consumption—and the authors are thus able to emphasize how agents make sense of the transition. Socio-technical change does not have a unique meaning: for citizens it means living in congruence with their values; for policy makers it means accruing political capital; for entrepreneurs it means new business opportunities. The case by Etienne Vignola-Gagné, Peter Biegelbauer and Daniel Lehner (Chapter 7) offers a similar lesson about governance. My reading of their multi-site study of the implementation of translational research—a management movement that seeks to bridge laboratory and clinical work in medical research—reveals how the different agents involved make sense of this organizational innovation. Entrepreneurs see a new market niche, researchers strive for increasing the impact of their work, and public officials align their advocacy for translation with the now regular calls for rendering publicly funded research more productive. Both chapters illuminate a lesson that is as old as it is useful to remember: technological innovation is interpreted in as many ways as the number of agents that participate in it.

Innovation for whom?

The framework and illustrations of this book are useful for those of us interested in the governance of system integration. The typology of different modes of governance and the three vantage points from which empirical analysis can be deployed are very useful indeed. Further development of this framework should include the question of how political power is redistributed by effect of innovation and the system integration and re-integration that it triggers. The question is pressing because the outcomes of innovation vary as power structures are reinforced or debilitated by the emergence of new technologies—not to mention ongoing destabilizing forces such as social movements. Put another way, the framework should be expanded to explain in which circumstances innovation exacerbates inequality. The expanded framework should probe whether the mutual accommodation is asymmetric across socio-economic groups, which is the same as asking: are poor people asked to do more adapting to new technologies? These questions have great relevance in contemporary debates about economic and political inequality. 

I believe that Borrás and Edler and their colleagues have done us a great service organizing a broad but dispersed literature and offering an intuitive and comprehensive framework to study the governance of innovation. The conceptual and empirical parts of the book are instructive and I look forward to the papers that will follow testing this framework. We need to better understand the governance of socio-technical change and the dynamics of systems integration. Without a unified framework of comparison, the ongoing efforts in various disciplines will not amount to a greater understanding of the big picture. 

I also have a selfish reason to like this book: it helps me make sense of my carrier’s push for integrating my value system to their technical system. If I decide to adapt to a newer phone, I could readily do so because I have time and other resources. But that may not be the case for many customers of 2G devices who have neither the resources nor the inclination to learn to use more complex devices. For that reason alone, I’d argue that this sort of innovation-led systems integration could be done more democratically. Still, I could meet the decision of my carrier with indifference: when the service is disconnected, I could simply try to get by without the darn toy.

Note: Thanks to Joseph Schuman for an engaging discussion of this book with me.

       

       

       

The tenth anniversary meeting of the “Valdai International Discussion Club” –a forum that brings together foreign Russia experts with top Russian officials, politicians, journalists and academics—conveyed two strong messages from the Kremlin: Russia is fully back on the world stage seeking a leadership role; and Russia offers the world an alternative value system to that of the West, which has lost its moral compass. No one made these points more vigorously than Vladimir Putin himself, who has dined with the group for the past decade. He was in top form, exuding self-confidence and decisiveness. Yet the forum itself, though Kremlin-sponsored, also had discordant voices, including several vocal critics of the way Putin’s Russia is run.

The meeting this year took place in a picturesque resort on Lake Valdai, 250 miles from Moscow. It was the largest ever, with more than 200 participants. The official theme was “Russia’s Diversity for the Modern World” and focused on how Russia should define its national identity. In some ways, every Valdai meeting—and I have attended all ten—has had as its underlying theme the “whither Russia question”, even at the session in Siberia when we were discussing whether Russia was indeed an energy superpower. But this year the question of Russia’s uniqueness and its place in the world was the main focus.

Sergei Karaganov, one of the meeting’s co-organizers, was hardly upbeat. He began the forum on a cautionary note, saying that Russia had wasted the last twenty years and that the only idea that still unites Russians is their victory in World War Two.

Unlike in previous years, both the liberal and moderate nationalist political opposition was represented. Two of the most notable interventions were by Yevgeny Roizman, the controversial newly-elected major of Yekaterinburg and Ksenia Sobchak, daughter of Anatoly Sobchak, the liberal mayor of St. Petersburg who gave Putin his post-Soviet political start in the early 1990s. Roizman gave a spirited defense of the importance of ending politics as usual in the corrupt provinces. Sobchak made an impassioned plea for her generation of urban, educated 30 –somethings. Her message: we reject the traditional Russian political patronage model, we don’t want a president who addresses us as a father talks to his children, we want to be treated as independent adults responsible for the decisions they make and we don’t want to rely on the state. And, she added, we didn’t grow up in the USSR, we have no nostalgia for the Soviet Union, we don’t care about Russia being a great power and we reject anti-Americanism. Indeed, we like the West.

One of the eternal questions about Russia’s identity—whether Russia is European, Asian or Eurasian—was addressed in a day-long session at the Iversky monastery, founded in 1653 and elegantly restored in recent years. In a panel highlighting Russia’s role as a multi-ethnic, multi-confessional state whose inhabitants have for centuries included Orthodox Christians, Jews, Moslems and Buddhists, Metropolitan Hilarion delivered a strong message. Russian Orthodox Christians, he said, are the true harbingers of traditional Christian values, while Western Protestants have embraced liberal values on issues such as abortion, homosexual rights and gay marriage that undermine Christian morality. These views were reflected in President Putin’s prepared speech, when he reiterated that Russia supports traditional Christian morality and opposes same-sex marriage. Moreover, both Putin and the Russian clergy emphasized that Orthodox Christians and Moslems share a commitment to traditional morality, highlighting their common bonds – and differentiating them on common grounds from the West.

One of Putin’s main foreign policy projects for his third term is his proposed Eurasian Union, a topic that provoked some lively discussion. Russian speakers argued that the Kremlin had “left the imperial paradigm behind”, and that this union would be an organization of equals akin to the European Union. Moldovan and Ukrainian speakers, by contrast, discussed the growing economic and political pressure that Russia is putting on them to reject the EU in the run-up to the Vilnius summit in November. Brussels is poised to offer Ukraine and Moldova Association Agreements that Russia claims would adversely impact both countries’ continuing economic ties to Moscow. Without Ukraine, the Eurasian Union will not fulfill the Kremlin’s ambition to create a grouping of post-Soviet states as a counterbalance to the European Union.

Russia’s growing global role in the wake of its Syria initiative was the main focus of discussions with the top officials who came to Valdai—Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov, Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu and head of the Presidential Administration Sergei Ivanov. They were clearly buoyed by the fact that Russia had taken the initiative in organizing the agreement to rid Syria of its chemical weapons, and stressed that, they favor a strong, secular Syria. The Opposition, they claimed, was up to 75% controlled by Al Qaeda. There seemed to be agreement that not all of the chemical weapons would be found and destroyed, but that enough could be destroyed to accomplish Russian and American goals. And they repeated Russia’s claim that chemical weapons were used only by the Opposition and not by Assad’s own forces.

Shoigu addressed the question of military reform by quoting Russia’s pre-revolutionary Prime Minister Pyotr Stolypin who said “Give us money and time, and you won’t recognize our armed forces.” He expressed concern about the situation in Afghanistan after NATO’s withdrawal next year, and questioned who would form the next generation of leaders in Kabul. He reiterated that U.S. missile defense programs were ultimately aimed at Russia, not Iran or North Korea, but also suggested developing joint U.S-Russian ABM systems. NATO, he said, is a threat to Russia. What else was NATO enlargement, if not directed against Russia? His message to the group-no more new entrants to NATO.

In previous years, President Putin has met with foreign participants only in a private setting, but for this tenth anniversary the format of the Putin meeting changed. He sat on the stage with four discussants—former German Defense Minister Volker Ruehe, former Italian Prime Minister Romano Prodi, former French Prime Minister Francois Fillon and President of the U.S-based Center for the National Interest Dimitri Simes. They addressed foreign and Russian participants and the four-hour meeting was televised.

Putin gave a vigorous defense of Russia as the standard-bearer of traditional Christian morality, arguing that the United States and Europe had rejected the Christian roots that form the basis of Western civilization. Criticizing “excessive political correctness” he declared that the European multicultural project had failed. He also warned that attempts by un-named powers to revive the model of a unipolar world had also failed. Stressing Russia’s right to have a seat at the table on all decisions of major international importance, he invoked the times when Russia had made an important contribution to world peace—the Congress of Vienna in 1815 and the Yalta Conference in 1945. He warned that when Russia was excluded—for instance from the 1919 Treaty of Versailles—this led to war. His message on Syria was clear—Russia took the initiative and had helped the United States by proposing an agreement to rid Syria of its chemical weapons stockpiles. And it expects to continue to be respected as an indispensable global player.

For anyone who has followed the Kremlin’s fraught relationship with the Opposition since the December 2011 Bolotnaya demonstrations protesting the results of the Duma elections, Putin’s interactions with representatives of the Opposition appeared to represent a shift in policy. He answered their questions about the need for political reform and more individual freedom by suggesting that these issues will be examined in the future—without committing himself to any particular course of action. The fact that these exchanges were televised live gave the impression that the Kremlin feels confident enough that the Opposition represents no real threat that it can engage in a dialogue with its more mainstream representatives. After all, there were no extreme nationalists or hard-core socialists there. Opposition leader Alexei Navalny, who won 27% of the vote in the recent Moscow mayoral elections, was also absent, having apparently turned down an invitation to participate.

Putin was evasive about his future plans. When asked if he would run for office again in 2018, he did not rule it out. He noted approvingly that Angela Merkel was about to win a third term, as he had last year. He certainly gave the impression of being fully engaged, with ambitious—albeit undefined-- plans for Russia. The Russian economy may be experiencing low growth rates, but the main Valdai message was that Putin’s Russia is eager to engage the world, offering an alternative to a troubled West that has rejected major tenets of its own civilizational heritage.

       

       

       

       

Editor's Note: The World Bank’s Independent Evaluation Group (IEG) recently published a self-evaluation of its activities. Besides representing current thinking among evaluation experts at the World Bank, it also more broadly reflects some of the strengths and gaps in the approaches that evaluators use to assess and learn from the performance of the international institutions with which they work. The old question “Quis custodet ipsos custodes?” – loosely translated as “Who evaluates the evaluators?” – remains as relevant as ever. Johannes Linn served as an external peer reviewer of the self-evaluation and provides a bird’s-eye view on the lessons learned.

An Overview of the World Bank’s IEG Self-Evaluation Report

In 2011 the World Bank’s Independent Evaluation Group (IEG) carried out and published a self-evaluation of its activities. The self-evaluation team was led by an internal manager, but involved a respected external evaluation expert as the principal author and also an external peer reviewer.

The IEG self-evaluation follows best professional practices as codified by the Evaluation Cooperation Group (ECG). This group brings together the evaluation offices of seven major multilateral financial institutions in joint efforts designed to enhance evaluation performance and cooperation among their evaluators. One can therefore infer that the approach and focus of the IEG self-evaluation is representative of a broader set of practices that are currently used by the evaluation community of international financial organizations.

At the outset the IEG report states that “IEG is the largest evaluation department among Evaluation Capacity Group (ECG) members and is held in high regard by the international evaluation community. Independent assessments of IEG’s role as an independent evaluation function for the Bank and IFC rated it above the evaluation functions in most other ECG members, international nongovernmental organizations, and transnational corporations and found that IEG follows good practice evaluation principles.”

The self-evaluation report generally confirms this positive assessment. For four out of six areas of its mandate IEG gives itself the second highest rating (“good”) out of six possible rating categories. This includes (a) the professional quality of its evaluations, (b) its reports on how the World Bank’s management follows up on IEG recommendations, (c) cooperation with other evaluation offices, and (d) assistance to borrowing countries in improving their own evaluation capacity. In the area of appraising the World Bank’s self-evaluation and risk management practices, the report offers the third highest rating (“satisfactory”), while it gives the third lowest rating (“modest”) for IEG’s impact on the Bank’s policies, strategies and operations. In addition the self-evaluation concludes that overall the performance of IEG has been “good” and that it operates independently, effectively and efficiently.

The report makes a number of recommendations for improvement, which are likely to be helpful, but have limited impact on its activities. They cover measures to further enhance the independence of IEG and the consistency of evaluation practices as applied across the World Bank Group’s branches – the World Bank, the International Finance Corporation (IFC), and the Multilateral Investment Guarantee Agency (MIGA) –; to improve the design of evaluations and the engagement with Bank management upstream for greater impact; and monitoring the impact of recent organizational changes in IEG in terms of results achieved. The report also recommends that more be done to evaluate the Bank’s analytical work and that evaluations draw on comparative evidence.

Assessment

In terms of the parameters of self-evaluation set by the prevailing practice among the evaluators on international financial agencies, the IEG self-evaluation is accurate and helpful. From my own experience as an operational manager in the Bank whose activities were evaluated by IEG in years past, and as a user of IEG evaluations (and of evaluations of other international aid organizations) for my research on aid effectiveness, I concur that IEG is independent and effective in meeting its mandate as defined. Moreover, the self-evaluation produces useful quantitative evidence (including survey results, budget analysis, etc.) to corroborate qualitative judgments.

However, the self-evaluation suffers from a number of limitations in approach and gaps in focus, which are broadly representative of the practices prevalent among many of the evaluation offices of international aid agencies.

Approach of the IEG self-evaluation

The core of the self-evaluation report is about the evaluation process followed by IEG, with very little said about the substance of IEG’s evaluations. The following questions could have usefully been raised, but were not: do evaluations cover the right issues with the right intensity, such as growth and poverty; environmental, governance, and gender impacts; regional dimensions versus exclusive country or project focus; effectiveness in addressing the problems of fragile and conflict states; effectiveness in dealing with global public goods; sustainability and scaling up; etc. Therefore the report does not deal with the question of whether IEG effectively responds in its evaluations to the many important strategic debates and issues with which the development community is grappling.

Related to this limitation is the fact that the report assessed the quality of IEG’s mostly in terms of (a) whether its approach and processes meet certain standards established by the Evaluation Cooperation Group; and (b) how it is judged by stakeholders in response to a survey commissioned for this evaluation. Both these approaches are useful, but they do not have any basis in professional assessments of the quality of individual products. This is equivalent to IEG evaluating the World Bank’s projects on the quality of its processes (e.g., appraisal and supervision processes) and on the basis of stakeholder surveys, without evaluating individual products and their impacts.

Gaps in the Self-Evaluation and in Evaluation Practice

Careful reading of the report reveals six important gaps in the IEG self-evaluation, in the prevailing evaluation practice in the World Bank, and more generally in the way international financial organizations evaluate their own performance. The first three gaps relate to aspects of the evaluation approach used and the second three gaps relate to lack of focus in the self-evaluation on key internal organizational issues:

1. Impact Evaluations: The report notes that IEG carries out two to three impact evaluations per year, but it sidesteps the debate in the current evaluation literature and practice as to what extent the “gold standard” of randomized impact evaluation should occupy a much more central role. Given the importance of this debate and divergence of views, it would have been appropriate for the self-evaluation to assess IEG’s current practice of very limited use of randomized evaluations.

2. Evaluation of Scaling Up: The report does not address the question of to what extent current IEG practice not only assesses the performance of individual projects in terms of their outcomes and sustainability, but also in terms of whether the Bank has systematically built on its experience in specific projects to help scale up their impact through support for expansion or replication in follow-up operations or through effective hand-off to the government or other partners. In fact, currently IEG does not explicitly and systematically consider scaling up in its project and program evaluations. For example, in a recent IEG evaluation of World Bank funded municipal development projects (MDPs) , IEG found that the Bank has supported multiple MDPs in many countries over the years, but the evaluation did not address the obvious question whether the Bank systematically planned for the project sequence or built on its experience from prior projects in subsequent operations. While most other evaluation offices like IEG do not consider scaling up, some (in particular those of the International Fund for Agricultural Development and the United Nations Development Program) have started doing so in recent years.

3. Drawing on the Experience of and Benchmarking Against Other Institutions: The self-evaluation report does a good job in benchmarking IEG performance in a number of respects against that of other multilateral institutions. In the main text of the report it states that “IEG plans to develop guidelines for approach papers to ensure greater quality, in particular in drawing on comparative information from other sources and benchmarking against other institutions.” This is a welcome intention, but it is inadequately motivated in the rest of the report and not reflected in the Executive Summary. The reality is that IEG, like most multilateral evaluation offices, so far has not systematically drawn on the evaluations and relevant experience of other aid agencies in its evaluations of World Bank performance. This has severely limited the learning impact of the evaluations.

4. Bank Internal Policies, Management Processes and Incentives: IEG evaluations traditionally do not focus on how the Bank’s internal policies, management and incentives affect the quality of Bank engagement in countries. Therefore evaluations cannot offer any insights into whether and how Bank-internal operating modalities contribute to results. Two recent exceptions are notable exceptions. First, the IEG evaluation of the Bank’s approach to harmonization with other donors and alignment with country priorities assesses the incentives for staff to support harmonization and alignment. The evaluation concludes that there are insufficient incentives, a finding disputed by management. Second, is the evaluation of the Bank’s internal matrix management arrangements, which is currently under way. The self-evaluation notes that Bank management tried to quash the matrix evaluation on the grounds that it did not fall under the mandate of IEG. This is an unfortunate argument, since an assessment of the institutional reasons for the Bank’s performance is an essential component of any meaningful evaluation of Bank-supported programs. While making a good case for the specific instance of the matrix evaluation, the self-evaluation report shies away from a more general statement in support of engaging IEG on issues of Bank-internal policies, management processes and incentives. It is notable that IFAD’s Independent Office of Evaluation appears to be more aggressive in this regard: It currently is carrying out a full evaluation of IFAD’s internal efficiency and previous evaluations (e.g., an evaluation of innovation and scaling up) did not shy away from assessing internal institutional dimensions.

5. World Bank Governance: The IEG self-evaluation is even more restrictive in how it interprets its mandate regarding the evaluation of the World Bank’s governance structures and processes (including its approach to members’ voice and vote, the functioning of its board of directors, the selection of its senior management, etc.). It considers these topics beyond IEG’s mandate. This is unfortunate, since the way the Bank’s governance evolves will substantially affect its long-term legitimacy, effectiveness and viability as an international financial institution. Since IEG reports to the Bank’s board of directors, and many of the governance issues involve questions of the board’s composition, role and functioning, there is a valid question of how effectively IEG could carry out such an evaluation. However, it is notable that the IMF’s Independent Evaluation Office, which similarly reports to the IMF board of directors, published a full evaluation of the IMF’s governance in 2008, which effectively addressed many of the right questions.

6. Synergies between World Bank, IFC and MIGA: The self-evaluation report points out that the recent internal reorganization of IEG aimed to assure more effective and consistent evaluations across the three member branches of the World Bank Group. This is welcome, but the report does not assess how past evaluations addressed the question of whether the World Bank, IFC and MIGA effectively capitalized on the potential synergies among the three organizations. The recent evaluation of the World Bank Group’s response to the global economic crisis of 2008/9 provided parallel assessments of each agency’s performance, but did not address whether they work together effectively in maximizing their synergies. The reality is that the three organizations have deeply engrained institutional cultures and generally go their own ways rather than closely coordinating their activities on the ground. Future evaluations should explicitly consider whether the three effectively cooperate or not. While the World Bank is unique in the way it has organizationally separated its private sector and guarantee operations, other aid organizations also have problems of a lack of cooperation, coordination and synergy among different units within the agency. Therefore, the same comment also applies to their evaluation approaches.

Conclusions

Self-evaluations are valuable tools for performance assessment and IEG is to be congratulated for carrying out and publishing such an evaluation of its own activities. As for all self-evaluations, it should be seen as an input to an independent external evaluation, a decision that, for now, has apparently been postponed by the Bank’s board of directors.

IEG’s self-evaluation has many strengths and provides an overall positive assessment of IEG’s work. However, it does reflect some important limitations of analysis and of certain gaps in approach and coverage, which an independent external review should consider explicitly, and which IEG’s management should address. Since many of these issues also likely apply to most of the other evaluation approaches by other evaluation offices, the lessons have relevance beyond IEG and the World Bank.

Key lessons include:

• An evaluation of evaluations should focus not only on process, but also on the substantive issues that the institution is grappling with.
• An evaluation of the effectiveness of evaluations should include a professional assessment of the quality of evaluation products.
• An evaluation of evaluations should assess:
  o How effectively impact evaluations are used;
  o How scaling up of successful interventions is treated;
  o How the experience of other comparable institutions is utilized;
  o Whether and how the internal policies, management practices and incentives of the institution are effectively assessed;
  o Whether and how the governance of the institution is evaluated; and
  o Whether and how internal coordination, cooperation and synergy among units within the organizations are assessed.

Evaluations play an essential role in the accountability and learning of international aid organizations. Hence it is critical that evaluations address the right issues and use appropriate techniques. If the lessons above were reflected in the evaluation practices of the aid institutions, this would represent a significant step forward in the quality, relevance and likely impact of evaluations.

      

In 2015 the international community agreed on a set of ambitious sustainable development goals (SDGs) for the global society, to be achieved by 2030. One of the lessons that the implementation of the Millennium Development Goals (MDG s) has highlighted is the importance of a systematic approach to identify and sequence development interventions—policies, programs, and projects—to achieve such goals at a meaningful scale. The Chinese approach to development, which consists of identifying a problem and long-term goal, testing alternative solutions, and then implementing those that are promising in a sustained manner, learning and adapting as one proceeds—Deng Xiaoping’s “crossing the river by feeling the stones”—is an approach that holds promise for successful achievement of the SDGs.

Having observed the Chinese way, then World Bank Group President James Wolfensohn in 2004, together with the Chinese government, convened a major international conference in Shanghai on scaling up successful development interventions, and in 2005 the World Bank Group (WBG ) published the results of the conference, including an assessment of the Chinese approach. (Moreno-Dodson 2005). Some ten years later, the WBG once again is addressing the question of how to support scaling up of successful development interventions, at a time when the challenge and opportunity of scaling up have become a widely recognized issue for many development institutions and experts.

Since traditional private and public service providers frequently do not reach the poorest people in developing countries, social enterprises can play an important role in providing key services to those at the “base of the pyramid.”

In parallel with the recognition that scaling up matters, the development community is now also focusing on social enterprises (SEs), a new set of actors falling between the traditionally recognized public and private sectors. We adopt here the World Bank’s definition of “social enterprises” as a social-mission-led organization that provides sustainable services to Base of the Pyramid (BoP) populations. This is broadly in line with other existing definitions for the sector and reflects the World Bank’s primary interest in social enterprises as a mechanism for supporting service delivery for the poor. Although social enterprises can adopt various organizational forms—business, nongovernmental organizations (NGOs), and community-based organizations are all forms commonly adopted by social enterprises—they differ from private providers principally by combining three features: operating with a social purpose, adhering to business principles, and aiming for financial sustainability. Since traditional private and public service providers frequently do not reach the poorest people in developing countries, social enterprises can play an important role in providing key services to those at the “base of the pyramid.” (Figure 1)

Figure 1. Role of SE sector in public service provision

Social enterprises often start at the initiative of a visionary entrepreneur who sees a significant social need, whether in education, health, sanitation, or microfinance, and who responds by developing an innovative way to address the perceived need, usually by setting up an NGO, or a for-profit enterprise. Social enterprises and their innovations generally start small. When successful, they face an important challenge: how to expand their operations and innovations to meet the social need at a larger scale. 

Development partner organizations—donors, for short—have recognized the contribution that social enterprises can make to find and implement innovative ways to meet the social service needs of people at the base of the pyramid, and they have started to explore how they can support social enterprises in responding to these needs at a meaningful scale. 

The purpose of this paper is to present a menu of approaches for addressing the challenge of scaling up social enterprise innovations, based on a review of the literature on scaling up and on social enterprises. The paper does not aim to offer specific recommendations for entrepreneurs or blueprints and guidelines for the development agencies. The range of settings, problems, and solutions is too wide to permit that. Rather, the paper provides an overview of ways to think about and approach the scaling up of social enterprise innovations. Where possible, the paper also refers to specific tools that can be helpful in implementing the proposed approaches. 

Note that we talk about scaling up social enterprise innovations, not about social enterprises. This is because it is the innovations and how they are scaled up that matter. An innovation may be scaled up by the social enterprise where it originated, by handoff to a public agency for implementation at a larger scale, or by other private enterprises, small or large. 

This paper is structured in three parts: Part I presents a general approach to scaling up development interventions. This helps establish basic definitions and concepts. Part II considers approaches for the scaling up of social enterprise innovations. Part III provides a summary of the main conclusions and lessons from experience. A postscript draws out implications for external aid donors. Examples from actual practice are used to exemplify the approaches and are summarized in Annex boxes.

Downloads

• Download the full paper (PDF)

       

       

       

       

On June 20, I moderated a conversation on the future of the Department of Veterans Affairs with Secretary Robert McDonald. When he took office almost two years ago, Secretary McDonald inherited an organization in crisis: too many veterans faced shockingly long wait-times before they received care, VA officials had allegedly falsified records, and other allegations of mismanagement abounded.

Photo: Paul Morigi

Since he was sworn into office, Secretary McDonald has led the VA through a period of ambitious reform, anchored by the MyVA program. He and his team have embraced three core strategies that are securing meaningful change. They are important insights for all government leaders, and private sector ones as well.

1. Set bold goals

Secretary McDonald’s vision is for the VA to become the number one customer-service agency in the federal government. But he and his team know that words alone won’t make this happen. They developed twelve breakthrough priorities for 2016 that will directly improve service to veterans. These actionable short-term objectives support the VA’s longer term aim to deliver an exceptional experience for our veterans. By aiming high, and also drafting a concrete roadmap, the VA has put itself on a path to success.

2. Hybridize the best of public and private sectors

To accomplish their ambitious goal, VA leadership is applying the best practices of customer-service businesses around the nation. The Secretary and his colleagues are leveraging the goodwill, resources, and expertise of both the private and public sector. To do that, the VA has brought together diverse groups of business leaders, medical professionals, government executives, and veteran advocates under their umbrella MyVA Advisory Committee. Following the examples set by private sector leaders in service provision and innovation, the VA is developing user-friendly mobile apps for veterans, modernizing its website, and seeking to make hiring practices faster, more competitive, and more efficient. And so that no good idea is left unheard, the VA has created a "shark tank” to capture and enact suggestions and recommendations for improvement from the folks who best understand daily VA operations—VA employees themselves.

3. Data, data, data

The benefits of data-driven decision making in government are well known. As led by Secretary McDonald, the VA has continued to embrace the use of data to inform its policies and improve its performance. Already a leader in the collection and publication of data, the VA has recently taken even greater strides in sharing information between its healthcare delivery agencies. In addition to collecting administrative and health-outcomes information, the VA is gathering data from veterans about what they think . Automated kiosks allow veterans to check in for appointments, and to record their level of satisfaction with the services provided.

The results that the Secretary and his team have achieved speak for themselves:

• 5 million more appointments completed last fiscal year over the previous fiscal year
• 7 million additional hours of care for veterans in the last two years (based on an increase in the clinical workload of 11 percent over the last two years)
• 97 percent of appointments completed within 30 days of the veteran’s preferred date; 86 percent within 7 days; 22 percent the same day
• Average wait times of 5 days for primary care, 6 days for specialty care, and 2 days for mental health are
• 90 percent of veterans say they are satisfied or completely satisfied with when they got their appointment (less than 3 percent said they were dissatisfied or completely dissatisfied).
• The backlog for disability claims—once over 600,000 claims that were more than 125 days old—is down almost 90 percent.

Thanks to Secretary McDonald’s continued commitment to modernization, the VA has made significant progress. Problems, of course, remain at the VA and the Secretary has more work to do to ensure America honors the debt it owes its veterans, but the past two years of reform have moved the Department in the right direction. His strategies are instructive for managers of change everywhere.

Fred Dews and Andrew Kenealy contributed to this post.

       

       

       

       

Introduction

It was 2025 when Facebook decided to post live feeds from public and private surveillance cameras, so they could be searched online. The decision hardly came as a surprise. Ever since Facebook passed the 500 million-member mark in 2010, it found increasing consumer demand for applications that allowed users to access surveillance cameras with publicly accessible IP addresses. (Initially, live feeds to cameras on Mexican beaches were especially popular.) But in the mid-2020s, popular demand for live surveillance camera feeds were joined by demands from the U.S. government that an open circuit television network would be invaluable in tracking potential terrorists. As a result, Facebook decided to link the public and private camera networks, post them live online, and store the video feeds without restrictions on distributed servers in the digital cloud.

Once the new open circuit system went live, anyone in the world could log onto the Internet, select a particular street view on Facebook maps and zoom in on a particular individual. Anyone could then back click on that individual to retrace her steps since she left the house in the morning or forward click on her to see where she was headed in the future. Using Facebook’s integrated face recognition app, users could click on a stranger walking down any street in the world, plug her image into the Facebook database to identify her by name, and then follow her movements from door-to-door. Since cameras were virtually ubiquitous in public and commercial spaces, the result was the possibility of ubiquitous identification and surveillance of all citizens virtually anywhere in the world—and by anyone. In an enthusiastic launch, Mark Zuckerberg dubbed the new 24/7 ubiquitous surveillance system “Open Planet.”

Open Planet is not a technological fantasy. Most of the architecture for implementing it already exists, and it would be a simple enough task for Facebook or Google, if the companies chose, to get the system up and running: face recognition is already plausible, storage is increasing exponentially; and the only limitation is the coverage and scope of the existing cameras, which are growing by the day. Indeed, at a legal Futures Conference at Stanford in 2007, Andrew McLaughlin, then the head of public policy at Google, said he expected Google to get requests to put linked surveillance networks live and online within the decade. How, he, asked the audience of scholars and technologists, should Google respond?

If “Open Planet” went live, would it violate the Constitution? The answer is that it might not under Supreme Court doctrine as it now exists—at least not if it were a purely-private affair, run by private companies alone and without government involvement. Both the First Amendment, which protects free speech, and the Fourth Amendment, which prohibits unreasonable searches and seizures, only restrict actions by the government. On the other hand, if the government directed Open Planet’s creation or used it to track citizens on government-owned, as well as private-sector, cameras, perhaps Facebook might be viewed as the equivalent of a state actor, and therefore restricted by the Constitution.

At the time of the framing of the Constitution, a far less intrusive invasion of privacy – namely, the warrantless search of private homes and desk drawers for seditious papers – was considered the paradigmatic case of an unreasonable and unconstitutional invasion of privacy. The fact that 24/7 ubiquitous surveillance may not violate the Constitution today suggests the challenge of translating the framers’ values into a world in which Google and Facebook now have far more power over the privacy and free speech of most citizens than any King, president, or Supreme Court justice. In this essay, I will examine four different areas where the era of Facebook and Google will challenge our existing ideas about constitutional protections for free speech and privacy: ubiquitous surveillance with GPS devices and online surveillance cameras; airport body scanners; embarrassing Facebook photos and the problem of digital forgetting; and controversial YouTube videos. In each area, I will suggest, preserving constitutional values requires a different balance of legal and technological solutions, combined with political mobilization that leads to changes in social norms.

Let’s start with Open Planet, and imagine sufficient government involvement to make the courts plausibly consider Facebook’s program the equivalent of state action. Imagine also that the Supreme Court in 2025 were unsettled by Open Planet and inclined to strike it down. A series of other doctrines might bar judicial intervention. The Court has come close to saying that we have no legitimate expectations of privacy in public places, at least when the surveillance technologies in question are in general public use by ordinary members of the public.[1]  As mobile camera technology becomes ubiquitous, the Court might hold that the government is entitled to have access to the same linked camera system that ordinary members of the public have become accustomed to browsing. Moreover, the Court has said that we have no expectation of privacy in data that we voluntarily surrender to third parties.[2] In cases where digital images are captured on cameras owned by third parties and stored in the digital cloud—that is, on distributed third party servers--we have less privacy than citizens took for granted at the time of the American founding. And although the founders expected a degree of anonymity in public, that expectation would be defeated by the possibility of 24/7 surveillance on Facebook.

The doctrinal seeds of a judicial response to Open Planet, however, do exist. A Supreme Court inclined to strike down ubiquitous surveillance might draw on recent cases involving decisions by the police to place a GPS tracking device on the car of a suspect without a warrant, tracking his movements 24/7. The Supreme Court has not yet decided whether prolonged surveillance, in the form of “dragnet-type law enforcement practices” violates the Constitution.[3] Three federal circuits have held that the use of a GPS tracking device to monitor someone’s movements in a car over a prolonged period is not a search because we have no expectations of privacy in our public movements.[4] But in a visionary opinion in 2010, Judge Douglas Ginsburg of the U.S. Court of Appeals disagreed. Prolonged surveillance is a search, he recognized, because no reasonable person expects that his movements will be continuously monitored from door to door; all of us have a reasonable expectation of privacy in the “whole” of our movements in public. [5] Ginsburg and his colleagues struck down the warrantless GPS surveillance of a suspect that lasted 24 hours a day for nearly a month on the grounds that prolonged, ubiquitous tracking of citizen’s movements in public is constitutionally unreasonable. “Unlike one’s movements during a single journey, the whole of one’s movements over the course of a month is not actually exposed to the public because the likelihood anyone will observe all those movements is effectively nil,” Ginsburg wrote. Moreover, “That whole reveals more – sometimes a great deal more – than does the sum of its parts.”[6] Like the “mosaic theory” invoked by the government in national security cases, Ginsburg concluded that “Prolonged surveillance reveals types of information not revealed by short-term surveillance, such as what a person does repeatedly, what he does not do, and what he does ensemble.  These types of information can each reveal more about a person than does any individual trip viewed in isolation.”[7] Ginsburg understood that 24/7 ubiquitous surveillance differs from more limited tracking not just in degree but in kind – it looks more like virtual stalking than a legitimate investigation – and therefore is an unreasonable search of the person.

Because prolonged surveillance on “Open Planet” potentially reveals far more about each of us than 24/7 GPS tracking does, providing real time images of all our actions, rather than simply tracking the movements of our cars, it could also be struck down as an unreasonable search of our persons. And if the Supreme Court struck down Open Planet on Fourth Amendment grounds, it might be influenced by the state regulations of GPS surveillance that Ginsburg found persuasive, or by Congressional attempts to regulate Facebook or other forms of 24/7 surveillance, such as the Geolocational Privacy and Surveillance Act proposed by Sen. Ron Wyden (D-OR) that would require officers to get a warrant before electronically tracking cell phones or cars.[8]

The Supreme Court in 2025 might also conceivably choose to strike down Open Planet on more expansive grounds, relying not just on the Fourth Amendment, but on the right to autonomy recognized in cases like Casey v. Planned Parenthood and Lawrence v. Texas. The right to privacy cases, beginning with Griswold v. Connecticut and culminating in Roe v. Wade and Lawrence, are often viewed as cases about sexual autonomy, but in Casey and Lawrence, Justice Anthony Kennedy recognized a far more sweeping principle of personal autonomy that might well protect individuals from totalizing forms of ubiquitous surveillance. Imagine an opinion written in 2025 by Justice Kennedy, still ruling the Court and the country at the age of 89. “In our tradition the State is not omnipresent in the home. And there are other spheres of our lives and existence, outside the home, where the State should not be a dominant presence,” Kennedy wrote in Lawrence. “Freedom extends beyond spatial bounds. Liberty presumes an autonomy of self that includes freedom of thought, belief, expression, and certain intimate conduct.”[9] Kennedy’s vision of an “autonomy of self” that depends on preventing the state from becoming a “dominant presence” in public as well as private places might well be invoked to prevent the state from participating in a ubiquitous surveillance system that prevents citizens from defining themselves and expressing their individual identities. Just as citizens in the Soviet Union were inhibited from expressing and defining themselves by ubiquitous KGB surveillance, Kennedy might hold, the possibility of ubiquitous surveillance on “Open Planet” also violates the right to autonomy, even if the cameras in question are owned by the private sector, as well as the state, and a private corporation provides the platform for their monitoring.  Nevertheless, the fact that the system is administered by Facebook, rather than the Government, might be an obstacle to a constitutional ruling along these lines. And if Kennedy (or his successor) struck down “Open Planet” with a sweeping vision of personal autonomy that didn’t coincide with the actual values of a majority of citizens in 2025, the decision could be the Roe of virtual surveillance, provoking backlashes from those who don’t want the Supreme Court imposing its values on a divided nation.

Would the Supreme Court, in fact, strike down “Open Planet” in 2025? If the past is any guide, the answer may depend on whether the public, in 2025, views 24/7 ubiquitous surveillance as invasive and unreasonable, or whether citizens have become so used to ubiquitous surveillance on and off the web, in virtual space and real space, that the public demands “Open Planet” rather than protesting against it. I don’t mean to suggest that the Court actually reads the polls. But in the age of Google and Facebook, technologies that thoughtfully balance privacy with free expression and other values have tended to be adopted only when companies see their markets as demanding some kind of privacy protection, or when engaged constituencies have mobilized in protest against poorly designed architectures and demanded better ones, helping to create a social consensus that the invasive designs are unreasonable.

The paradigmatic case of the kind of political mobilization on behalf of constitutional values that I have in mind is presented by my second case: the choice between the naked machine and the blob machine in airport security screening. In 2002, officials at Orlando International airport first began testing the millimeter wave body scanners that are currently at the center of a national uproar. The designers of the scanners at Pacific Northwest Laboratories offered U.S. officials a choice: naked machines or blob machines? The same researchers had developed both technologies, and both were equally effective at identifying contraband. But, as their nicknames suggest, the former displays graphic images of the human body, while the latter scrambles the images into a non-humiliating blob.[10]

Since both versions of the scanners promise the same degree of security, any sane attempt to balance privacy and safety would seem to favor the blob machines over the naked machines. And that’s what European governments chose. Most European airport authorities have declined to adopt body scanners at all, because of persuasive evidence that they’re not effective at detecting low-density contraband such as the chemical powder PETN that the trouser bomber concealed in his underwear on Christmas day, 2009. But the handful of European airports that have adopted body scanners, such as Schiphol airport in Amsterdam, have opted for a version of the blob machine. This is in part due to the efforts of European privacy commissioners, such as Germany’s Peter Schaar, who have emphasized the importance of designing body scanners in ways that protect privacy.

The U.S. Department of Homeland Security made a very different choice. It deployed the naked body scanners without any opportunity for public comment—then appeared surprised by the backlash. Remarkably, however, the backlash was effective. After a nationwide protest inspired by the Patrick Henry of the anti-Naked Machines movement, a traveler who memorably exclaimed “Don’t Touch my Junk,” President Obama called on the TSA to go back to the drawing board. And a few months after authorizing the intrusive pat downs, in February 2011, the TSA announced that it would begin testing, on a pilot basis, versions of the very same blob machines that the agency had rejected nearly a decade earlier. According to the latest version, to be tested in Las Vegas and Washington, D.C, the TSA will install software filters on its body scanner machines that detects potential threat items and indicates their location on a generic, blob like outline of each passenger that will appear on a monitor attached to the machine. Passengers without suspicious items will be cleared as “OK,” those with suspicious items will be taken aside for additional screening. The remote rooms in which TSA agents view images of the naked body will be eliminated. According to news reports, TSA began testing the filtering software in the fall of 2010 – precisely when the protests against the naked machines went viral. If the filtering software is implemented across the country, converting naked machines into blob machines, the political victory for privacy will be striking.

Of course, it’s possible that courts might strike down the naked machines as unreasonable and unconstitutional, even without the political protests. In a 1983 opinion upholding searches by drug-sniffing dogs, Justice Sandra Day O’Connor recognized that a search is most likely to be considered constitutionally reasonable if it is very effective at discovering contraband without revealing innocent but embarrassing information.[11] The backscatter machines seem, under O'Connor's view, to be the antithesis of a reasonable search: They reveal a great deal of innocent but embarrassing information and are remarkably ineffective at revealing low-density contraband.

It’s true that the government gets great deference in airports and at the borders, where routine border searches don’t require heightened suspicion. But the Court has held that non-routine border searches, such as body cavity or strip searches, do require a degree of individual suspicion.  And although the Supreme Court hasn't evaluated airport screening technology, lower courts have emphasized, as the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 9th Circuit ruled in 2007, that "a particular airport security screening search is constitutionally reasonable provided that it 'is no more extensive nor intensive than necessary, in the light of current technology, to detect the presence of weapons or explosives.'"[12]

It’s arguable that since the naked machines are neither effective nor minimally intrusive – that is, because they might be designed with blob machine like filters that promise just as much security while also protecting privacy – that courts might strike them down. As a practical matter, however, both lower courts and the Supreme Court seem far more likely to strike down strip searches that have inspired widespread public opposition – such as the strip search of a high school girl wrongly accused of carrying drugs, which the Supreme Court invalidated by a vote of 8-1,[13] then they are of searches that, despite the protests of a mobilized minority, the majority of the public appears to accept.

The tentative victory of the blob machines over the naked machines, if it materializes, provides a model for successful attempts to balance privacy and security: government can be pressured into striking a reasonable balance between privacy and security by a mobilized minority of the public when the privacy costs of a particular technology are dramatic, visible, widely distributed, and people experience the invasions personally as a kind of loss of control over the conditions of their own exposure.

But can we be mobilized to demand a similarly reasonable balance when the threats to privacy come not from the government but from private corporations and when those responsible for exposing too much personal information about us are none other than ourselves? When it comes to invasions of privacy by fellow citizens, rather than by the government, we are in the realm not of autonomy but of dignity and decency. (Autonomy preserves a sphere of immunity from government intrusion in our lives; dignity protects the norms of social respect that we accord to each other.) And since dignity is a socially constructed value, it’s unlikely to be preserved by judges--or by private corporations--in the face of the expressed preferences of citizens who are less concerned about dignity than exposure.

This is the subject of our third case, which involves a challenge that, in big and small ways, is confronting millions of people around the globe: how best to live our lives in a world where the Internet records everything and forgets nothing—where every online photo, status update, Twitter post and blog entry by and about us can be stored forever.[14] Consider the case of Stacy Snyder. Four years ago, Snyder, then a 25-year-old teacher in training at Conestoga Valley High School in Lancaster, Pa., posted a photo on her MySpace page that showed her at a party wearing a pirate hat and drinking from a plastic cup, with the caption “Drunken Pirate.” After discovering the page, her supervisor at the high school told her the photo was “unprofessional,” and the dean of Millersville University School of Education, where Snyder was enrolled, said she was promoting drinking in virtual view of her under-age students. As a result, days before Snyder’s scheduled graduation, the university denied her a teaching degree. Snyder sued, arguing that the university had violated her First Amendment rights by penalizing her for her (perfectly legal) after-hours behavior. But in 2008, a federal district judge rejected the claim, saying that because Snyder was a public employee whose photo didn’t relate to matters of public concern, her “Drunken Pirate” post was not protected speech.[15]

When historians of the future look back on the perils of the early digital age, Stacy Snyder may well be an icon. With Web sites like LOL Facebook Moments, which collects and shares embarrassing personal revelations from Facebook users, ill-advised photos and online chatter are coming back to haunt people months or years after the fact.

Technological advances, of course, have often presented new threats to privacy. In 1890, in perhaps the most famous article on privacy ever written, Samuel Warren and Louis Brandeis complained that because of new technology — like the Kodak camera and the tabloid press — “gossip is no longer the resource of the idle and of the vicious but has become a trade.”[16] But the mild society gossip of the Gilded Age pales before the volume of revelations contained in the photos, video and chatter on social-media sites and elsewhere across the Internet. Facebook, which surpassed MySpace in 2008 as the largest social-networking site, now has more than 500 million members, or 22 percent of all Internet users, who spend more than 500 billion minutes a month on the site. Facebook users share more than 25 billion pieces of content each month (including news stories, blog posts and photos), and the average user creates 70 pieces of content a month.

Today, as in Brandeis’s day, the value threatened by gossip on the Internet – whether posted by us our by others – is dignity. (Brandeis called it an offense against honor.) But American law has never been good at regulating offenses against dignity – especially when regulations would clash with other values, such as protections for free speech. And indeed, the most ambitious proposals in Europe to create new legal rights to escape your past on the Internet are very hard to reconcile with the American free speech tradition.

The cautionary tale here is Argentina, which has dramatically expanded the liability of search engines like Google and Yahoo for offensive photographs that harm someone’s reputation. Recently, an Argentinean judge held Google and Yahoo liable for causing “moral harm” and violating the privacy of Virginia Da Cunha, a pop star, by indexing pictures of her that were linked to erotic content. The ruling against Google and Yahoo was overturned on appeal in August, but there are at least 130 similar cases pending in Argentina to force search engines to remove or block offensive content. In the U.S., search engines are protected by the Communications Decency Act, which immunizes Internet service providers from hosting content posted by third parties. But as liability against search engines expands abroad, it will seriously curtain free speech:  Yahoo says that the only way to comply with injunctions about is to block all sites that refer to a particular plaintiff.[17]

In Europe, recent proposals to create a legally enforceable right to escape your past have come from the French. The French data commissioner, Alex Turc, who has proposed a right to oblivion – namely a right to escape your past on the Internet. The details are fuzzy, but it appears that the proposal would rely on an international body – say a commission of forgetfulness – to evaluate particular take down requests and order Google and Facebook to remove content that, in the view of commissioners, violated an individuals’ dignitary rights.

From an American perspective, the very intrusiveness of this proposal is enough to make it implausible: how could we rely on bureaucrats to protect our dignity in cases where we have failed to protect it on our own? Europeans, who have less of a free speech tradition and far more of a tradition of allowing people to remove photographs taken and posted against their will, will be more sympathetic to the proposal. But from the perspective of most American courts and companies, giving people the right selectively to delete their pasts from public discourse would pose unacceptably great threats to free speech.

A far more promising solution to the problem of forgetting on the Internet is technological. And there are already small-scale privacy apps that offer disappearing data. An app called TigerText allows text-message senders to set a time limit from one minute to 30 days, after which the text disappears from the company’s servers, on which it is stored, and therefore, from the senders’ and recipients’ phones. (The founder of TigerText, Jeffrey Evans, has said he chose the name before the scandal involving Tiger Woods’s supposed texts to a mistress.)[18]

Expiration dates could be implemented more broadly in various ways. Researchers at the University of Washington, for example, are developing a technology called Vanish that makes electronic data “self-destruct” after a specified period of time. Instead of relying on Google, Facebook or Hotmail to delete the data that is stored “in the cloud” — in other words, on their distributed servers — Vanish encrypts the data and then “shatters” the encryption key. To read the data, your computer has to put the pieces of the key back together, but they “erode” or “rust” as time passes, and after a certain point the document can no longer be read. The technology doesn’t promise perfect control — you can’t stop someone from copying your photos or Facebook chats during the period in which they are not encrypted. But as Vanish improves, it could bring us much closer to a world where our data don’t linger forever.

Facebook, if it wanted to, could implement expiration dates on its own platform, making our data disappear after, say, three days or three months unless a user specified that he wanted it to linger forever. It might be a more welcome option for Facebook to encourage the development of Vanish-style apps that would allow individual users who are concerned about privacy to make their own data disappear without imposing the default on all Facebook users.

So far, however, Zuckerberg, Facebook’s C.E.O., has been moving in the opposite direction — toward transparency, rather than privacy. In defending Facebook’s recent decision to make the default for profile information about friends and relationship status public, Zuckerberg told the founder of the publication TechCrunch that Facebook had an obligation to reflect “current social norms” that favored exposure over privacy. “People have really gotten comfortable not only sharing more information and different kinds but more openly and with more people, and that social norm is just something that has evolved over time,” [19] he said.

It’s true that a German company, X-Pire, recently announced the launch of a Facebook app that will allow users automatically to erase designated photos. Using electronic keys that expire after short periods of time, and obtained by solving a Captcha, or graphic that requires users to type in a fixed number combinations, the application ensures that once the time stamp on the photo has expired, the key disappears.[20] X-Pire is a model for a sensible, blob-machine-like solution to the problem of digital forgetting. But unless Facebook builds X-Pire-like apps into its platform – an unlikely outcome given its commercial interests – a majority of Facebook users are unlikely to seek out disappearing data options until it’s too late. X-Pire, therefore, may remain for the foreseeable future a technological solution to a grave privacy problem—but a solution that doesn’t have an obvious market.

The courts, in my view, are better equipped to regulate offenses against autonomy, such as 24/7 surveillance on Facebook, than offenses against dignity, such as drunken Facebook pictures that never go away. But that regulation in both cases will likely turn on evolving social norms whose contours in twenty years are hard to predict.

Finally, let’s consider one last example of the challenge of preserving constitutional values in the age of Facebook and Google, an example that concerns not privacy but free speech.[21]

At the moment, the person who arguably has more power than any other to determine who may speak and who may be heard around the globe isn’t a king, president or Supreme Court justice. She is Nicole Wong, the deputy general counsel of Google, and her colleagues call her “The Decider.” It is Wong who decides what controversial user-generated content goes down or stays up on YouTube and other applications owned by Google, including Blogger, the blog site; Picasa, the photo-sharing site; and Orkut, the social networking site. Wong and her colleagues also oversee Google’s search engine: they decide what controversial material does and doesn’t appear on the local search engines that Google maintains in many countries in the world, as well as on Google.com. As a result, Wong and her colleagues arguably have more influence over the contours of online expression than anyone else on the planet.

At the moment, Wong seems to be exercising that responsibility with sensitivity to the values of free speech. Google and Yahoo can be held liable outside the United States for indexing or directing users to content after having been notified that it was illegal in a foreign country. In the United States, by contrast, Internet service providers are protected from most lawsuits involving having hosted or linked to illegal user-generated content. As a consequence of these differing standards, Google has considerably less flexibility overseas than it does in the United States about content on its sites, and its “information must be free” ethos is being tested abroad.

For example, on the German and French default Google search engines, Google.de and Google.fr, you can’t find Holocaust-denial sites that can be found on Google.com, because Holocaust denial is illegal in Germany and France. Broadly, Google has decided to comply with governmental requests to take down links on its national search engines to material that clearly violates national laws. But not every overseas case presents a clear violation of national law. In 2006, for example, protesters at a Google office in India demanded the removal of content on Orkut, the social networking site, that criticized Shiv Sena, a hard-line Hindu political party popular in Mumbai. Wong eventually decided to take down an Orkut group dedicated to attacking Shivaji, revered as a deity by the Shiv Sena Party, because it violated Orkut terms of service by criticizing a religion, but she decided not to take down another group because it merely criticized a political party. “If stuff is clearly illegal, we take that down, but if it’s on the edge, you might push a country a little bit,” Wong told me. “Free-speech law is always built on the edge, and in each country, the question is: Can you define what the edge is?”

Over the past couple of years, Google and its various applications have been blocked, to different degrees, by 24 countries. Blogger is blocked in Pakistan, for example, and Orkut in Saudi Arabia. Meanwhile, governments are increasingly pressuring telecom companies like Comcast and Verizon to block controversial speech at the network level. Europe and the U.S. recently agreed to require Internet service providers to identify and block child pornography, and in Europe there are growing demands for network-wide blocking of terrorist-incitement videos. As a result, Wong and her colleagues worry that Google’s ability to make case-by-case decisions about what links and videos are accessible through Google’s sites may be slowly circumvented, as countries are requiring the companies that give us access to the Internet to build top-down censorship into the network pipes.

It is not only foreign countries that are eager to restrict speech on Google and YouTube. In May, 2006, Joseph Lieberman who has become the A. Mitchell Palmer of the digital age, had his staff contacted Google and demanded that the company remove from YouTube dozens of what he described as jihadist videos. After viewing the videos one by one, Wong and her colleagues removed some of the videos but refused to remove those that they decided didn’t violate YouTube guidelines. Lieberman wasn’t satisfied. In an angry follow-up letter to Eric Schmidt, the C.E.O. of Google, Lieberman demanded that all content he characterized as being “produced by Islamist terrorist organizations” be immediately removed from YouTube as a matter of corporate judgment — even videos that didn’t feature hate speech or violent content or violate U.S. law. Wong and her colleagues responded by saying, “YouTube encourages free speech and defends everyone’s right to express unpopular points of view.” Recently, Google and YouTube announced new guidelines prohibiting videos “intended to incite violence.”

That category scrupulously tracks the Supreme Court’s rigorous First Amendment doctrine, which says that speech can be banned only when it poses an imminent threat of producing serious lawless action. Unfortunately, Wong and her colleagues recently retreated from that bright line under further pressure from Lieberman. In November, 2010, YouTube added a new category that viewers can click to flag videos for removal: “promotes terrorism.” There are 24 hours of video uploaded on YouTube every minute, and a series of categories viewers can use to request removal, including “violent or repulsive content” or inappropriate sexual content. Although hailed by Senator Lieberman, the new “promotes terrorism category” is potentially troubling because it goes beyond the narrow test of incitement to violence that YouTube had previously used to flag terrorism related videos for removal. YouTube’s capitulation to Lieberman shows that a user generated system for enforcing community standards will never protect speech as scrupulously as unelected judges enforcing strict rules about when speech can be viewed as a form of dangerous conduct.

Google remains a better guardian for free speech than internet companies like Facebook and Twitter, which have refused to join the Global Network Initiative, an industry-wide coalition committed to upholding free speech and privacy. But the recent capitulation of YouTube shows that Google’s “trust us” model may not be a stable way of protecting free speech in the twenty-first century, even though the alternatives to trusting Google – such as authorizing national regulatory bodies around the globe to request the removal of controversial videos – might protect less speech than Google’s “Decider” model currently does.

I’d like to conclude by stressing the complexity of protecting constitutional values like privacy and free speech in the age of Google and Facebook, which are not formally constrained by the Constitution. In each of my examples – 24/7 Facebook surveillance, blob machines, escaping your Facebook past, and promoting free speech on YouTube and Google -- it’s possible to imagine a rule or technology that would protect free speech and privacy, while also preserving security—a blob-machine like solution. But in some areas, those blob-machine-like solutions are more likely, in practice, to be adopted then others. Engaged minorities may demand blob machines when they personally experience their own privacy being violated; but they may be less likely to rise up against the slow expansion of surveillance cameras, which transform expectations of privacy in public. Judges in the American system may be more likely to resist ubiquitous surveillance in the name of Roe v. Wade-style autonomy than they are to create a legal right to allow people to edit their Internet pasts, which relies on ideas of dignity that in turn require a social consensus that in America, at least, does not exist. As for free speech, it is being anxiously guarded for the moment by Google, but the tremendous pressures, from consumers and government are already making it hard to hold the line at removing only speech that threatens imminent lawless action.

In translating constitutional values in light of new technologies, it’s always useful to ask: What would Brandeis do? Brandeis would never have tolerated unpragmatic abstractions, which have the effect of giving citizens less privacy in the age of cloud computing than they had during the founding era. In translating the Constitution into the challenges of our time, Brandeis would have considered it a duty actively to engage in the project of constitutional translation in order to preserve the Framers’ values in a startlingly different technological world. But the task of translating constitutional values can’t be left to judges alone: it also falls to regulators, legislators, technologists, and, ultimately, to politically engaged citizens. As Brandeis put it, “If we would guide by the light of reason, we must let our minds be bold.”

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Editors' Note: Brookings Nonresident Senior Fellow Richard Feinberg reports from Havana on President Obama's historic visit to the island. 

Havana is abuzz at the sheer weight of the president of the United States arriving in Cuba. In the hours before President Obama’s arrival, astonished Cubans told tales of planeloads of black limousines and massive Suburbans, of heavily armed security personnel, of sunglass-sporting secret service officers arriving at the airport and making their way through the city.

Cubans have anticipated the arrival of the Obama family with considerable joyfulness, but the festive mood is colored by a certain reticence, a deep-seated fear of, once again, being overwhelmed by the Colossus from the North. 

The government has bargained hard with Obama’s advance team to hem him in, to limit his direct contact with the Cuban people. There will be no large outdoor speech—rather on Tuesday morning Obama will address a hand-picked audience in the newly renovated Grand Theatre with its limited seating capacity—although the Cuban government agreed to live television coverage. The U.S. president will also meet with local entrepreneurs, but in a constricted venue, and ditto for his meeting with independent civil society and political dissidents.

On Tuesday afternoon the president will be the guest of honor at an exhibition game between the visiting Tampa Bay Rays (their chance selection was by lottery) and the Cuban national team. The White House has hinted that he will throw out the first ball, but this could not be confirmed. On a prior occasion, Jimmy Carter did indeed throw out the first ball, but that was during a visit long after his presidency.

Putting the lanky, athletic Obama on the mound would run a certain risk for the Cubans. Suppose the excited crowd begins to cheer, “Obama, Obama…” Even more dangerous, imagine if the exuberant Cubans follow with, “USA, USA, USA…”

Back home, critics of the Obama administration say he’s made too many concessions to the Cuban government without reciprocity. Cuba is no closer to a liberal democracy, they argue, than it was on December 17, 2014, when Barack Obama and Raúl Castro announced their decision to normalize diplomatic relations. But these skeptics miss this vital point: By befriending the president of the United States, the president of Cuba and first secretary of the Cuban Communist Party (PCC) has exploded his regime’s long-standing national security paradigm organized around the imminent danger posed by a hostile empire. The rationale for the state-of-siege mentality, the explanation for the poor economic performance, no longer resonates. The ruling political bureau of the PCC stands exposed before the Cuban people.

Hence, the government is working hard to persuade the people that it has not forsaken its nationalist credentials: the PCC’s daily newspaper, Gramna, ran a fierce editorial warning for Obama not to try to step on their little island, not to intervene in its internal affairs; rather, he must arrive as a classic Greek suitor bearing gifts. But no Trojan horses, the Cubans are too wary to be fooled so easily.

Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, passing through Havana this week, pointedly remarked: “The hearts of the Cuban and Venezuelan people are warm and true. Not like others who come with smiles but hide a clenched fist.”

In truth, most Cubans very much want the trip to succeed. They want more tourists, more remittances from Cuban-Americans living in Florida and New Jersey. They would welcome more trade, more access to famous U.S. consumer brands. Many would even welcome U.S. investment—with the promise of good jobs and better wages. All would love to be able to travel freely between their island and the outside world, especially to the nearby United States. In short, they yearn for normality.

And savvy Cubans sense the link between the more relaxed diplomatic atmosphere and the gradual opening of political space so evident on the island. While not yet living in a fully open society, Cubans are now more willing to express their views openly, to foreigners and among themselves. Some are even forming proto-civil society groupings, to advance gender equality, environmental stewardship, religious freedom, and human rights.

Bathing in these new liberties, Cubans worry that something, anything, could go wrong during the visit. In such a highly scrutinized setting, one misstep, one awkward phrase, one misinterpretation of Cuban history, would give ammunition to hardliners to set the clock back and to restore the old national security paradigm.

Raúl Castro has pinned his own legacy too closely to the young U.S. president to allow any stumbles during this historic visit, to stand idly by while the visit was twisted by his internal opponents. And Raúl and his confidants retain control over the mass media in Cuba, and the PCC will loyally pass along the party line, as set by the political bureau and echoed all along the chain of command, down to the district and village level.

So the visit will be declared a success. Most likely, it will truly be a marvelous moment, because Obama is just the right person to stretch out the U.S. hand to the long-aggrieved Cuban people. The very traits for which Obama is so often criticized at home will serve him well in Cuba: his humility, his respectfulness, his sense of irony—these are just what Cubans have been harking for from the United States for so many decades.

The Cubans will also love Michelle Obama and the two teenage Obama daughters, especially if Sasha and Malia are freed to wander forth and meet their contemporaries at one of Havana’s clubs where young people gather—the Cuban media and public will bask in the respect being paid to Cuban music and dance, to “Cubanismo.”

Obama and Castro share some goals, and conflict on others. Both wish for a peaceful transition to a more prosperous Cuba, more open to the world and to global commerce. But they differ on the endgame: Obama would like to see a more liberal, pluralistic polity, while Castro presumably wants to see his Communist Party retain its grip on power. But that chess match will be waged later, by their successors. 

For Barack Obama and Raúl Castro, today their interests are convergent. Hence, we can predict that, most likely, the visit will be a great success, a historic legacy for which both statesmen will be justly proud.

       

Editors' Note: Brookings Nonresident Senior Fellow Richard Feinberg reports from Havana on President Obama's historic visit to the island.

Walking the streets of Havana during Obama’s two full-day visit here, the face of every Cuban I spoke with lit up brightly upon the mere mention of Obama’s name. “Brilliant,” “well-spoken,” “well-prepared,” “humanitarian,” “a true friend of Cuba,” were common refrains.

These Cubans did not need to add that their own aging, distant leaders compare unfavorably to the elegant, accessible Obama. And the U.S. president’s mixed ethnicity is a powerful visual that does not need to be verbally underscored to a multi-racial Cuban population. But this skeptical question remained: “Would the visit make a lasting difference?” Would the government of Cuba permit some of the changes that Obama was so forcefully advocating?

In his joint press conference with President Raúl Castro, and in his speech in a concert hall that was televised live to an intensely interested Cuban public, Obama spoke with remarkable directness about human rights and democratic freedoms, sparking more than one overhead conversation among Cubans about their own lack thereof.

With eloquent dexterity, Obama delivered his subversive message carefully wrapped in assurances about his respect for Cuba’s national sovereignty. “Cubans will make their own destiny,” he reassured a proudly nationalist audience.

“The President of the world”—as average Cubans are wont to refer to the U.S. president—emphasized that just as the United States no longer perceives Cuba as a threat, neither should Cuba fear the United States. Offering an outstretched hand, Obama sought to deprive the Cuban authorities of the external threat that they have used so effectively to justify their authoritarian rule and to excuse their poor economic performance.

On Cuban state television, commentators were clearly thrown on the defensive, seeking to return the conversation to the remaining economic sanctions—“the blockade”—to the U.S. occupation of the Guantanamo Naval Base and to past U.S. aggressions. Their national security paradigm requires such an external imminent danger.

Obama sought to strengthen the favorable trends on the island, by meeting with independent civil society leaders and young private entrepreneurs. One owner of an event planning business confided to me, “I cried during our meeting with Obama—and I rarely cry—because here was the leader of the most powerful nation on earth meeting with us, and listening to us with sophisticated understanding, when our own leaders never ever do.”

Obama assured the Cubans he would continue to ask Congress to lift the remaining economic sanctions—but he added that the Cuban government could help. It could allow U.S. firms to trade with the Cuban private sector and cooperatives, and now with some state-owned enterprises “if such exchanges would benefit the Cuban people.” So far, the government has permitted very few such transactions—ironically, an auto-embargo. And the Cuban government could engage the United States in an effective human rights dialogue and prioritize settlement of outstanding claims.

Certainly, the administration needs Cuba’s help in broadening constituencies in the United States for its policy of positive engagement with Cuba. Some U.S. firms—Verizon; AT&T; AirBnB; now Starwood Hotels and Resorts; shortly, various U.S. commercial airlines and ferry services—are signing deals. And the surge of U.S. travelers visiting the island typically return home as advocates for deepening normalization. Obama’s entourage included nearly 40 members of the Congress, the largest of his presidency, he said.

But Obama still does not have the votes to lift the embargo. He told the Cubans he has “aggressively” used executive authority to carve out exceptions to the embargo, such that the list of things he can do administratively is growing shorter. In effect, he tossed the ball into the Cuban government’s court. Only if Cuba opens to U.S. commerce, only if it shows a disposition to improve its human rights practices, might the U.S. Congress be moved to fully normalize economic relations.

If Cubans were so impressed by Obama, why do I only reward him a triple? Fundamentally, because his White House staff failed to secure a schedule that would have exposed him more directly to the welcoming Cuban people. There were rumors he was to throw out the first pitch at an exhibition game between the Tampa Bay Rays and the Cuban national team (won 4-1 by the U.S. squad), but that opportunity was denied. Nor was he permitted to make his main speech before an outdoor Cuban public. As he walked around Havana’s colonial center, the authorities allowed only small crowds. Michelle and accompanying daughters, Malia and Sasha—potentially powerful symbols in a family-oriented country—kept subdued schedules. Overall, the Cubans managed to hem Obama in, and to hand-select most of the audiences from among their loyal followers, audiences that were predictably polite but restrained. Fortunately, the meeting with opposition activists went forward as planned.

Further, while Obama’s remarks were well received, his texts were not as well woven together by coherent narratives as they might have been. And many Cubans would have liked to hear more about specific measures to build a more prosperous economy.

When asked whether Castro and Obama had “chemistry” by a reporter, a senior Cuban diplomat preferred to refer to “mutual respect.” But the two leaders did seem to develop a real rapport. During the baseball game, they spent a full hour sitting next to each other, seemingly in relaxed conversation. And during a brief question-and-answer period at the end of their joint press conference, when a U.S. reporter peppered Castro with hostile questions, Obama jumped in to fill time while Castro—not at all accustomed to press conferences—struggled to compose his response.

Cubans will long remember this visit by the sort of charismatic leader that they once had, in a youthful Fidel Castro, and that they would long to find once again. In the meantime, the Obama administration will do what it can to reintroduce Cuba to U.S. goods and services, U.S. citizen-diplomats, musical concerts, sports stars—Shaquille O’Neal, among others—and other cultural, educational, and scientific exchanges. And it will also spread ideas, about how to improve the sluggish Cuban economy and gradually integrate it into global commerce, and in the longer run, to help give average Cubans a greater voice in determining their own national destiny.