Reflections on the representativeness of citizens’ assemblies and similar innovations

(Co-authored with Paolo Spada)

Introduction

For proponents of deliberative democracy, the last couple of years could not have been better. Propelled by the recent diffusion of citizens’ assemblies, deliberative democracy has definitely gained popularity beyond small circles of scholars and advocates. From CNN to the New York Times, the Hindustan Times (India), Folha de São Paulo (Brazil), and Expresso (Portugal), it is now almost difficult to keep up with all the interest in democratic models that promote the random selection of participants who engage in informed deliberation. A new “deliberative wave” is definitely here.

But with popularity comes scrutiny. And whether the deliberative wave will power new energy or crash onto the beach, is an open question. As is the case with any democratic innovation (institutions designed to improve or deepen our existing democratic systems), critically examining assumptions is what allows for management of expectations and, most importantly, gradual improvements.

Proponents of citizens’ assemblies put representativeness at the core of their definition. In fact, it is one of their main selling points. For example, a comprehensive report highlights that an advantage of citizens’ assemblies, compared to other mechanisms of participatory democracy, is their typical combination of random selection and stratification to form a public body that is “representative of the public.” This general argument resonates with the media and the wider public. A recent illustration is an article by The Guardian, which depicts citizens’ assemblies as “a group of people who are randomly selected and reflect the demographics of the population as a whole”

It should be noted that claims of representativeness vary in their assertiveness. For instance, some may refer to citizens’ assemblies as “representative deliberative democracy,” while others may use more cautious language, referring to assemblies’ participants as being “broadly representative” of the population (e.g. by gender, age, education, attitudes). This variation in terms used to describe representativeness should prompt an attentive observer to ask basic questions such as: “Are existing practices of deliberative democracy representative?” “If they are ‘broadly’ representative, how representative are they?” “What criteria, if any, are used to assess whether a deliberative democracy practice is more or less representative of the population?” “Can their representativeness be improved, and if so, how?” These are basic questions that, surprisingly, have been given little attention in recent debates surrounding deliberative democracy. The purpose of this article is to bring attention to these basic questions and to provide initial answers and potential avenues for future research and practice.

Citizens Assemblies and three challenges of random sampling

Before discussing the subject of representativeness, it is important to provide some conceptual clarity. From an academic perspective, citizens’ assemblies are a variant of what political scientists normally refer to as “mini-publics.” These are processes in which participants: 1) are randomly selected (often combined with some form of stratification), 2) participate in informed deliberation on a specific topic, and 3) reach a public judgment and provide recommendations on that topic. Thus, in this text, mini-publics serves as a general term for a variety of practices such as consensus conferences, citizens’ juries, planning cells, and citizens’ assemblies themselves.

In this discussion, we will focus on what we consider to be the three main challenges of random sampling. First, we will examine the issue of sample size and the limitations of stratification in addressing this challenge. Second, we will focus on sampling error, which is the error that occurs when observing a sample rather than the entire population. Third, we will examine the issue of non-response, and how the typically small sample size of citizens’ assemblies exacerbates this problem. We conclude by offering alternatives to approach the trade-offs associated with mini-publics’ representativeness dilemma.

  1. Minimal sample size, and why stratification does not help reducing sample size requirements in complex populations 

Most mini-publics that we know of have a sample size of around 70 participants or less, with a few cases having more than 200 participants. However, even with a sample size of 200 people, representing a population accurately is quite difficult. This may be the reason why political scientist Robert Dahl, who first proposed the use of mini-publics over three decades ago, suggested a sample size of 1000 participants. This is also the reason why most surveys that attempt to represent a complex national population have a sample size of over 1000 people. 

To understand why representing a population accurately is difficult, consider that a sample size of approximately 370 individuals is enough to estimate a parameter of a population of 20,000 with a 5% error margin and 95% confidence level (for example, estimating the proportion of the population that answers “yes” to a question). However, if the desired error margin is reduced to 2%, the sample size increases to over 2,000, and for a more realistic population of over 1 million, a sample size of over 16,000 is required to achieve a 1% error margin with 99% confidence. Although the size of the sample required to estimate simple parameters in surveys does not increase significantly with the size of the population, it still increases beyond the sample sizes currently used in most mini-publics. Sample size calculators are available online to demonstrate these examples without requiring any statistical knowledge. 

Stratification is a strategy that can help reduce the error margin and achieve better precision with a fixed sample size. However, stratification alone cannot justify the very small sample sizes that are currently used in most mini-publics (70 or less).

To understand why, let’s consider that we want to create a sample that represents the five important strata of the population and includes all their intersections, such as ethnicity, age, income, geographical location, and gender. For simplicity, let’s assume that the first four categories have five equal groups in society, and gender is composed of two equal groups. The minimal sample required to include the intersections of all the strata and represent this population is equal to 5^4×2=1250. Note that we have maintained the somewhat unlikely assumption that all categories have equal size. If one stratum, such as ethnicity, includes a minority that is 1/10 of the population, then our multiplier would be 10 instead of 5, requiring a sample size of 5^3x10x2=2500.

The latter is independent of the number of categories within the strata, so even if the strata have only two categories, one comprising 90% (9/10) of the population and one comprising 10% (1/10) of the population, the multiplier would still be 10. When we want to represent a minority of 1% (1/100) of the population, the multiplier becomes 100. Note that this minimal sample size would include the intersection of all the strata in such a population, but such a small sample will not be representative of each stratum. To achieve stratum-level representation, we need to increase the number of people for each stratum following the same mathematical rules we used for simple sampling, as described at the beginning of this section, generating a required sample size in the order of hundreds of thousand of people (in our example above 370×2500=925000).

This is without even entering into the discussion of what should be the ideal set of strata to be used in order to achieve legitimacy. Should we also include attitudes such as liberal vs conservative? Opinions on the topic of the assembly? Metrics of type of personality? Education? Income? Previous level of engagement in politics? In sum, the more complex the population is, the larger the sample required to represent it.

  1. Sampling error due to a lack of a clear population list

When evaluating sampling methods, it is important to consider that creating a random sample of a population requires a starting population to draw from. In some fields, the total population is well-defined and data is readily available (e.g. students in a school, members of parliament), but in other cases such as a city or country, it becomes more complicated.

The literature on surveys contains multiple publications on sampling issues, but for our purposes, it is sufficient to note that without a police state or similar means of collecting an unprecedented amount of information on citizens, creating a complete list of people in a country to draw our sample from is impossible. All existing lists (e.g. electoral lists, telephone lists, addresses, social security numbers) are incomplete and biased.

This is why survey companies charge significant amounts of money to allow customers to use their model of the population, which is a combination of multiple subsamples that have been optimized over time to answer specific questions. For example, a survey company that specializes in election forecasting will have a sampling model optimized to minimize errors in estimating parameters of the population that might be relevant for electoral studies, while a company that specializes in retail marketing will have a model optimized to minimize forecasting errors in predicting sales of different types of goods. Each model will draw from different samples, applying different weights according to complex algorithms that are optimized against past performance. However, each model will still be an imperfect representation of the population.

Therefore, even the best possible sampling method will have an inherent error. It is difficult, if not impossible, to perfectly capture the entire population, so our samples will be drawn from a subpopulation that carries biases. This problem is further accentuated for low-cost mini-publics that cannot afford expensive survey companies or do not have access to large public lists like electoral or census lists. These mini-publics may have a very narrow and biased initial subpopulation, such as only targeting members of an online community, which brings its own set of biases.

  1. Non-response

A third factor, well-known among practitioners and community organizers, is the fact that receiving an invitation to participate does not mean a person will take part in the process. Thus, any invitation procedure has issues of non-participation. This is probably the most obvious factor that prevents one from creating representative samples of the population. In mini-publics with large samples of participants, such as Citizens’ Assemblies, the conversion rate is often quite low, sometimes less than 10%. By conversion rate, we mean the percentage of the people contacted that say that they are willing to participate and enter the recruitment pool. Simpler mini-publics of shorter duration (e.g. one weekend) often achieve higher engagement. A dataset on conversion rates of mini-publics does not exist, but our own experience in organizing Citizens Assemblies, Deliberative Polls, and clones tell us that it is possible to achieve more than 20% conversion when the topic is very controversial. For example, in the UK’s Citizens’ Assembly on Brexit in 2017, 1,155 people agreed to enter the recruitment pool out of the 5,000 contacted, generating a conversion rate of 23.1%, as illustrated below.[1] 

Figure 1: Contact and recruitment numbers UK’s Citizens Assembly on Brexit (Renwick et al. 2017) 

We do not pretend to know all the existing cases, and so this data should be taken with caution. Maybe there have been cases with 80% conversion, given it is possible to achieve such rates in surveys. But even in such hypothetical best practices, we would have failed to engage 20% of the population. More realistically, with 10 to 30% engagement, we are just engaging a very narrow subset of the population.

Frequent asked questions, and why we should not abandon sortition

It is clear from the points above that the assertion that the current generation of relatively small mini-publics is representative of the population from which it is drawn is questionable. Not surprisingly, the fact that participants of mini-publics differ from the population they are supposed to represent has already been documented over a decade ago.[2] However, in our experience, when confronted with these facts, practitioners and advocates of mini-publics often raise various questions. Below, we address five frequently asked questions and provide answers for them.

  1. “But people use random sampling for surveys and then claim that the results are representative, what is the difference for mini-publics?”

The first difference we already discussed between surveys and mini-publics is that surveys that aim to represent a large population use larger samples. 

The second difference, less obvious, is that a mini-public is not a system that aggregates fixed opinions. Rather, one of the core principles of mini-publics is that participants deliberate and their opinions may change as a result of the group process and composition. Our sampling procedures, however, are based on the task of estimating population parameters, not generating input for legitimate decision making. While a 5% error margin with 95% confidence level may be acceptable in a survey investigating the proportion of people who prefer one policy over another, this same measure cannot be applied to a mini-public because participants may change their opinions through the deliberation process. A mini-public is not an estimate derived from a simple mathematical formula, but rather a complex process of group deliberation that may transform input preferences into output preferences and potentially lead to important decisions. Christina Lafont has used a similar argument to criticize even an ideal sample that achieves perfect input representativeness.[3] 

  1. “But we use random assignment for experiments and then claim that the results are representative, what is the difference for mini-publics?”

Mini-publics can be thought of as experiments, similar to clinical trials testing the impact of a vaccine. This approach allows us to evaluate the impact of a mini-public on a subset of the population, providing insight into what would happen if a similar subset of the population were to deliberate. Continuing this metaphor, if the mini-public participants co-design a new policy solution and support its implementation, any similar subsets of the population going through an identical mini-public process should generate a similar output.

However, clinical trials require that the vaccine and a placebo be randomly assigned to treatment and control groups. This approach is only valid if the participants are drawn from a representative sample and cannot self-select into each experimental arm.

Unfortunately, few mini-publics compare the decisions made by members to those who were not selected, and this is not considered a key element for claiming representativeness or legitimacy. Furthermore, while random assignment of treatment and control is crucial for internal validity, it does not guarantee external validity. That is, the results may not be representative of the larger population, and the estimate of the treatment effect only applies to the specific sample used in the experiment. 

While the metaphor of the experiment as a model to interpret mini-publics is preferable to the metaphor of the survey, it does not solve the issue of working with non-representative samples in practice. Therefore, we must continue to explore ways to improve the representativeness of mini-publics and take into account the limitations of the experimental metaphor when designing and interpreting their results.

  1. “Ok, mini-publics may not be perfect, but are they not clearly better than other mechanisms?”

Thus far, we have provided evidence that the claim of mini-publics as representative of the population is problematic. But what about more cautious claims, such as mini-publics being more inclusive than other participatory processes (e.g., participatory budgeting, e-petitions) that do not employ randomization? Many would agree that traditional forms of consultation tend to attract “usual suspects” – citizens who have a higher interest in politics, more spare time, higher education, enjoy talking in public, and sometimes enjoy any opportunity to criticize. In the US, for instance, these citizens are often older white males, or as put by a practitioner once, “the male, pale and stale.” A typical mini-public instead manages to engage a more diverse set of participants than traditional consultations. While this is an obvious reality, the engagement strategies of mini-publics compared to traditional consultations based on self-selection have very different levels of sophistication and costs. Mini-publics tend to invest more resources in engagement, sometimes tens of thousands of dollars, and thus we cannot exclude that existing results in terms of inclusion are purely due to better outreach techniques, such as mass recruitment campaigns and stipends for the participants.

Therefore, it is not fair to compare traditional consultations to mini-publics. As it is not fair to compare mini-publics that are not specifically designed to include marginalized populations to open-to-all processes that are specifically designed for this purpose. The classic critique of feminist, intersectional and social movement scholars that mini-publics design does not consider existing inequalities, and thus is inferior to dedicated processes of minority engagement is valid in that case. This is because the amount dedicated to engagement is positively correlated with inclusion. For instance, processes specifically designed for immigrants and native populations will have more inclusive results than a general random selection strategy that does not have specific quotas for these groups and engagement strategies for them.

We talk past one another when we try to rank processes with respect to their supposed inclusion performance without considering the impact of the resources dedicated to engagement or their intended effects (e.g. redistribution, collective action).

It is also difficult to determine which approach is more inclusive without a significant amount of research comparing different participatory methods with similar outreach and resources. As far as we know, the only study that compares two similar processes – one using random engagement and the other using an open-to-all invitation – found little difference in inclusiveness.[4] It also highlighted the importance of other factors such as the design of the process, potential political impact, and the topic of discussion. Many practitioners do not take these factors into account, and instead focus solely on recruitment strategies. While one study is not enough to make a conclusive judgment, it does suggest that the assumption that mini-publics using randomly selected participants are automatically more inclusive than open-to-all processes is problematic.

  1. “But what about the ergonomics of the process and deliberative quality? Small mini-publics are undeniably superior to large open-to-all meetings.”

One of the frequently advertised advantages of small mini-publics is their capacity to support high-quality deliberation and include all members of the sample in the discussion. This is a very clear advantage; however, it has nothing to do with random sampling. It is not difficult to imagine a system in which an open-to-all meeting is called and then such a meeting selects a smaller number of representatives that will proceed to discuss using high-quality deliberative procedures. The selection rule could include quotas so that the selected members respect criteria of diversity of interest (even though, as we argued before, that would not be representative of the entire group). The ergonomics and inclusion advantages are purely linked with the size of the assembly and the process used to support deliberation.

  1. “So, are you saying we should abandon sortition?”

We hope that it is now clearer why we contend that it is conceptually erroneous to defend the application of sortition in mini-publics based on their statistical representation of the population. So, should sortition be abandoned? Our position is that it should not, and for one less obvious and counterintuitive argument in favor of random sampling: it offers a fair way to exclude certain groups from the mini-public. This is particularly so because, in certain cases, participatory mechanisms based on self-selection may be captured by organized minorities to the detriment of disengaged majorities.

Consider, for instance, one of President Obama’s first attempts to engage citizens at large-scale, the White House’s online town-hall. Through a platform named “open for questions,” citizens were able to submit questions to Obama and vote for which questions they would like to be answered by him. Over 92,000 people posted questions, and about 3.6 million votes were cast for and against those questions. Under the section “budget” of the questions, seven of the ten most popular queries were about legalizing marijuana, many of which were about taxing it. The popularity of this issue was attributed to a campaign led by NORML, an organization advocating for pot legalization. While the cause and ideas may be laudable, it is fair to assume that this was hardly the biggest budgetary concern of Americans in the aftermath of an economic downturn.

(Picture by Pete Souza, Wikimedia Commons)

In a case like the White House’s town-hall, the randomization of people to participate would be a fair and effective way to avoid the capture of the dialogue by organized groups. Randomization does not completely exclude the possibility of capture of a deliberative space, but it does increase the costs of doing so. The probability that members of an organized minority are randomly sampled to participate in a mini-public is minor, therefore the odds of their presence in the mini-public will be minor. Thus, even if we had a technological solution capable of organizing large-scale deliberation in the millions, a randomization strategy could still be an effective means to protect deliberation from the capture by organized minorities. A legitimate method of exclusion will remain an asset – at least until we have another legitimate way to mitigate the ability of small, organized minorities to bias deliberation.

The way forward for mini-publics: go big or go home?

There is clearly a case for increasing the size of mini-publics to improve their ability to represent the population. But there is also a trade-off between the size of the assembly and the cost required to sustain high-quality deliberation. With sizes approaching 1000 people, hundreds of moderators will be required and much of the exchange of information will occur not through synchronous exchanges in small groups, but through asynchronous transmission mechanisms across the groups. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it will have the typical limitations of any type of aggregation mechanism that requires participant attention and effort. For example, in an ideation process with 100 groups of 10 people each, where each group proposes one idea and then discusses all other ideas, each group would have to discuss 100 ideas. This is a very intense task. However, there could be filtering mechanisms that require subgroups to eliminate non-interesting ideas, and other solutions designed to reduce the amount of effort required by participants.

All else being equal, as the size of the assembly grows, the logistical complexity and associated costs increases. At the same time, the ability to analyze and integrate all the information generated by participants diminishes. The question of whether established technologies like argument mapping, or even emerging artificial intelligence could help overcome the challenges associated with mass deliberation is an empirical one – but it’s certainly an avenue worth exploring through experiments and research. Recent designs of permanent mini-publics such as the one adopted in Belgium (Ostbelgien, Brussels) and Italy (Milan) that resample a small new group of participants every year could attempt to include over time a sufficiently large sample of the population to achieve a good level of representation, at least for some strata of the population, and as long as systematic sampling errors are corrected, and obvious caveats in terms of representativeness are clearly communicated.

Another approach is to abandon the idea of achieving representativeness and instead target specific problems of inclusion. This is a small change in the current approach to mini-publics, but in our opinion, it will generate significant returns in terms of long-term legitimacy. Instead of justifying a mini-public through a blanket claim of representation, the justification in this model would emerge from a specific failure in inclusion. For example, imagine that neighborhood-level urban planning meetings in a city consistently fail to involve renters and disproportionately engage developers and business owners. In such a scenario, a stratified random sample approach that reserves quotas for renters and includes specific incentives to attract them, and not the other types of participants, would be a fair strategy to prevent domination. However, note that this approach is only feasible after a clear inclusion failure has been detected.

In conclusion, from a democratic innovations’ perspective, there seems to be two productive directions for mini-publics: increasing their size or focusing on addressing failures of inclusiveness. Expanding the size of assemblies involves technical challenges and increased costs, but in certain cases it might be worth the effort. Addressing specific cases of exclusion, such as domination by organized minorities, may be a more practical and scalable approach. This second approach might not seem very appealing at first. But one should not be discouraged by our unglamorous example of fixing urban planning meetings. In fact, this approach is particularly attractive given that inclusion failures can be found across multiple spaces meant to be democratic – from neighborhood meetings to parliaments around the globe.

For mini-public practitioners and advocates like ourselves, this should come as a comfort: there’s no shortage of work to be done. But we might be more successful if, in the meantime, we shift the focus away from the representativeness claim.

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We would like to express our gratitude to Amy Chamberlain, Andrea Felicetti, Luke Jordan, Jon Mellon, Martina Patone, Thamy Pogrebinschi, Hollie Russon Gilman, Tom Steinberg, and Anthony Zacharewski for their valuable feedback on previous versions of this post.


[1] Renwick, A., Allan, S., Jennings, W., McKee, R., Russell, M. and Smith, G., 2017. A Considered Public Voice on Brexit: The Report of the Citizens’ Assembly on Brexit.

[2] Goidel, R., Freeman, C., Procopio, S., & Zewe, C. (2008). Who participates in the ‘public square’ and does it matter? Public Opinion Quarterly, 72, 792- 803. doi: 10.1093/poq/nfn043

[3] Lafont, C., 2015. Deliberation, participation, and democratic legitimacy: Should deliberative mini‐publics shape public policy?. Journal of political philosophy, 23(1), pp.40-63.

[4] Griffin J. & Abdel-Monem T. & Tomkins A. & Richardson A. & Jorgensen S., (2015) “Understanding Participant Representativeness in Deliberative Events: A Case Study Comparing Probability and Non-Probability Recruitment Strategies”, Journal of Public Deliberation 11(1). doi: https://doi.org/10.16997/jdd.221

The haves and the have-nots: who benefits from civic tech?

Photo by Lewis Nguyen on Unsplash

Civic tech” broadly refers to the use of digital technologies to support a range of citizen engagement processes. From allowing individuals to report problems to local government to enabling the crowdsourcing of national legislation, civic tech aims to promote better policies and services  – while contributing to more inclusive democratic institutions. But could civic tech affect public issues in a way that benefits some and excludes others?

Over the decades, the question of who participates in and who is excluded from participation mediated by technology has been the focus of both civic tech critics and proponents. The latter tend to argue that, by enabling citizens to participate without constraints of time and distance, civic tech facilitates the participation of those who usually abstain from engaging with public issues, leading to more inclusive processes. Critics argue that, given the existing digital divide, unequal access to technology will tend to empower the already empowered, further deepening societal differences. Yet both critics and proponents do tend to share an intuitive assumption: the socio-economic profile of who participates is the primary determinant of who benefits from digitally mediated civic participation. For instance, if more men participate, outcomes will favor male preferences, and if more young people participate, outcomes will be more aligned with the concerns of the youth.

In a new paper, we show that the link between the demographics of those participating through digital channels, and the beneficiaries of the participation process, is not necessarily as straightforward as commonly assumed. We review four civic tech cases where data allow us to trace the full participatory chain through:

  1. the initial digital divide
  2. the participant’s demographics
  3. the demands made through the process
  4. the policy outcomes

We examine online voting in the Brazilian state of Rio Grande do Sul’s participatory budgeting process, the local problem reporting platform Fix My Street (FMS) in the United Kingdom, Iceland’s online crowdsourced constitution process, and the global petitioning platform Change.org.

Counterintuitive findings

Change.org has been used by nearly half a billion people around the globe. Using a dataset of 3.9 million signers of online petitions in 132 countries, we examine the number of successful petitions and assess whether petitions created by women have more success than those submitted by men. Our analysis shows that, even if women create fewer online petitions than men, their petitions are more likely to be successful. All else equal, when online petitions have an impact on government policy, the agenda being implemented is much closer to the issues women choose to focus on.

In Rio Grande do Sul’s digital participatory budgeting (PB), we show that despite important demographic differences between online and offline voters, these inequalities do not affect which types of projects are selected for funding – a consequence of PB’s unique institutional design, which favors redistributive effects. 

In fact, of all the cases analyzed, none reflect the standard assumption that inequalities in who participates translate directly into inequalities in who benefits from the policy outcomes. Our results suggest that the socio-economic profile of participants predicts only in part who benefits from civic tech. Just as important to policy outcomes is how the platform translates civic participation into policy demands, and how the government responds to those demands. While civic tech practitioners pay a lot of attention to design from a technological perspective, our findings highlight the importance of considering how civic tech platforms function as political institutions that encourage certain types of behavior while discouraging others.

Civic tech, it seems, is not inherently good nor bad for democratic institutions. Instead, its effect is a combination of who participates on digital platforms and the choices of platform designers and governments.

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Post co-authored with Jonathan Mellon and Fredrik M. Sjoberg. Cross-posted from the World Bank’s Let’s Talk Development blog.

Voices in the Code: Citizen Participation for Better Algorithms

Image by mohamed Hassan from Pixabay

Voices in the Code, by David G. Robinson, is finally out. I had the opportunity to read the book prior to its publication, and I could not recommend it enough. David shows how, between 2004 and 2014 in the US, experts and citizens came together to build a new kidney transplant matching algorithm. David’s work is a breath of fresh air for the debate surrounding the impact of algorithms on individuals and societies – a debate typically focused on the negative and sometimes disastrous effects of algorithms. While David conveys these risks at the outset of the book, focusing solely on these threats would add little to a public discourse already saturated with concerns. 

One of the major missing pieces in the “algorithmic literature” is precisely how citizens, experts and decision-makers can make their interactions more successful, working towards algorithmic solutions that better serve societal goals. The book offers a detailed and compelling case where a long and participatory process leads to the crafting of an algorithm that delivers a public good. This, despite the technical complexities, moral dilemmas, and difficult trade-offs involved in decisions related to the allocation of kidneys to transplant patients. Such a feat would not be achieved without another contribution of the book, which is to offer a didactical demystification of what algorithms are, normally treated as a reserved domain of few experts.

As David conducts his analysis, one also finds an interesting reversal of the assumed relationship between technology and participatory democracy. This relationship has mostly been examined from a civic tech angle, focusing on how technologies can support democratic participation through practices such as e-petitions, online citizens’ assemblies, and digital participatory budgeting. Thus, another original contribution of this book is to look at this relationship from the opposite angle: how can participatory processes better support technological deployments. While technology for participation (civic tech) remains an important topic, we should probably start paying more attention to how participation can support technological solutions (civic for tech).           

Continuing on through the book, other interesting insights emerge. For instance, technology and participatory democracy pundits normally subscribe to the virtues of decentralized systems, both from a technological and institutional perspective. Yet David depicts precisely the virtues of a decision-making system centralized at the national level. Should organ transplant issues be decided at the local level in the US, the results would probably not be as successful. Against intuition, David presents a clear case where centralized (although participatory) systems might offer better collective outcomes. Surfacing this counterintuitive finding is a welcome contribution to debates on the trade-offs between centralization and decentralization, both from a technological and institutional standpoint. 

But a few paragraphs here cannot do the book justice. Voices in the Code is certainly a must-read for anybody working on issues ranging from institutional design and participatory democracy, all the way to algorithmic accountability and decision support systems.

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P.s. As an intro to the book, here’s a nice 10 min. conversation with David on the Marketplace podcast.

46 favorite reads on democracy, civic tech and a few other interesting things

open book lot

I’ve recently been exchanging with some friends on a list of favorite reads from 2020. While I started with a short list, it quickly grew: after all, despite the pandemic, there has been lots of interesting stuff published in the areas that I care about throughout the year. While the final list of reads varies in terms of subjects, breadth, depth and methodological rigor, I picked these 46 for different reasons. These include my personal judgement of their contribution to the field of democracy, or simply a belief that some of these texts deserve more attention than they currently receive. Others are in the list because I find them particularly surprising or amusing.

As the list is long – and probably at this length, unhelpful to my friends – I tried to divide it into three categories: i) participatory and deliberative democracy, ii) civic tech and digital democracy, and iii) and miscellaneous (which is not really a category, let alone a very helpful one, I know). In any case, many of the titles are indicative of what the text is about, which should make it easier to navigate through the list.

These caveats aside, below is the list of some of my favorite books and articles published in 2020:

Participatory and Deliberative Democracy

While I still plan to make a similar list for representative democracy, this section of the list is intentionally focused on democratic innovations, with a certain emphasis on citizens’ assemblies and deliberative modes of democracy. While this reflects my personal interests, it is also in part due to the recent surge of interest in citizens’ assemblies and other modes of deliberative democracy, and the academic production that followed.  

On Civic Tech and Digital Democracy

2020 was the year where the field of civic tech seemed to take a democratic turn, from fixing potholes to fixing democracy.

MISCELANEOUS

Finally, a section as random as 2020.

As mentioned before, the list is already too long. But if there’s anything anyone thinks should absolutely be on this list, please do let me know.

Survey of young adults further exposes the challenges for US democracy. But addressing them could be an opportunity to reimagine democracy.

I just came across the recently published data from the GenForward project in the United States, a nationally representative survey of over 3,000 young adults aged 18-36 conducted by political scientist Cathy Cohen at the University of Chicago. The new data on race, young adults, and the 2020 elections paints a challenging picture of how young adults in the country perceive institutions and democracy. For those who think the recent election outcome put democracy back on track, these results reveal important challenges, but also opportunities.

  1. Negative enthusiasm takes the lead in young voters’ motivations

Prior to the election, in an interview with the Washington Post, Donald Trump  asserted that “Negative enthusiasm doesn’t win races. Positive enthusiasm, meaning ‘they like somebody’ is how elections are won.” But judging from the survey, negative enthusiasm was determinant in young voters’ choices: 64% of respondents said they would vote for Joe Biden precisely because they disliked the other candidate. There are significant differences across the profiles of respondents: for instance, only 28% of white respondents indicated that they would vote for Biden because they were enthusiastic about the candidate, while this number reaches 47% for black respondents.  

While these numbers can be disheartening, one could say they just show democracy at work, with young adults sanctioning the incumbent at the ballots. Add to that the polarized nature of elections, and the results are hardly surprising. But could this also reveal something more worrisome, particularly in the long-term? After all, research shows that voting is a rather habit-forming behavior: a citizen who votes today is more likely to vote in the future, and an 18- year-old who votes for a certain party now is likely to be voting for the same party when he turns 81. Does antagonistic voting behavior follow the same pattern? If it does, what signal does it send to parties? And what does it mean for the future of US democracy if such adversarial behavior crystalizes in the long-term?

  1. Perception of elite capture and de facto disenfranchisement 

Overall, 83% of respondents agreed (strongly or somewhat) with the statement that “the government is run by a few big interests, looking out for themselves and their friends.”

These results may seem surprising, but how do they fit with reality? Let’s take, for instance, the US Congress. While only 3% of the US population is made up of millionaires, in Congress they are a majority. And while workers make up more than half (52%) of the US population, they are only 2% in Congress. Is this exclusive club of Congress an exception in American politics? Unfortunately not. When looking at all levels of US government, politicians from working class backgrounds are less than a tenth of all elected officials. 

Some might argue that these disparities are not necessarily problematic, as elected individuals can act on behalf of broader interests. But as the saying goes, “if you’re not at the table, you’re on the menu.” Similar to most representative systems around the world, US policymaking is systematically biased towards the interests of the wealthier. So, while it may be depressing that 83% of young adults feel the government is run by a few big interests, it is understandable in the face of a governmental model that is, unfortunately, by the rich and for the rich. This discredit of representative institutions is reinforced by another result of the survey: 75% of young Americans agree (strongly or somewhat) with the statement “The leaders in government care very little about people like me”, revealing a sense of political alienation.  

4) Between discredit and revolution 

Young adults were also asked about the most effective way to drive real change in the country. And their responses tell us a lot about how they currently perceive traditional democratic institutions and their capacity to address collective issues. First, only 16% of respondents answered that real change can be achieved by voting in national elections. In other words, the overwhelming majority of young adults in the US reject the notion of voting in presidential elections as the ultimate democratic practice in the country. 

Second, 22% of respondents find that voting in state and local elections is the most effective way to bring about change. One can only speculate on the reasons for this, but here are a few potential explanations that come to mind. In socioeconomic terms, sub-national institutions are slightly more representative than national ones. This, at least hypothetically, should make these institutions marginally more responsive to larger constituencies. Also, given that most of the participatory institutions that allow citizens to impact decision-making in the US are at the sub-national level (e.g. referendums, initiatives), citizens may perceive state level institutions as being more responsive. Finally, the recent protagonism of some state  governments in the response to the Covid-19 crisis might also play a part in these views. 

Third,  38% of responses on the most effective ways to create real change in the US mention unconventional (non-electoral) forms of public participation, including categories such as protests, boycotts and social media campaigns. This is the same proportion as answers mentioning voting in elections, presidential and subnational, combined. Most strikingly, the third-most selected means to bring about change is “revolution” (14%). While the term revolution is not clearly defined here, this result certainly shows an eagerness for structural change in the way American democracy works, rather than milder reforms that are unlikely to alter the status quo. If we add revolution to the list of non-electoral forms of participation, these represent a total of 52% of survey responses. 

In short, the majority of young Americans between 18 and 36 years old, a sizable part of the electorate, finds that the best way to effect real change in the US lies outside typical democratic institutions. Even the much celebrated “return to [pre-2016] normalcy” following the recent election result is unlikely to reverse this picture on its own. After all, it was this very political normalcy of recent decades, characterized by inequality and poor responsiveness, that led to the situation that now affects US democracy. 

Not indifferent to the fact that a return to the pre-2016 era is unlikely to be sustainable, there are now a number of proposals on the table for how American democracy could be strengthened. These include, for instance, the Protecting our Democracy Act, the six strategies put forward by the Commission on the Practice of Democratic Citizenship, and the implementation of proportional voting, most effectively defended in Lee Drutman’s recent book Breaking the Two-Party Doom Loop.

While most of the proposed reforms are well-intended and likely to produce positive results, they are unlikely to address the fundamental issue of unequal responsiveness that affects liberal democracies nowadays. Furthermore, given the context of polarization and distrust, any democratic reforms undertaken by political elites alone are bound to have their legitimacy questioned by a large part of the population. What the numbers of the GenSurvey reveal, above all, is a sense of disenfranchisement and a belief that public decisions are taken by “few big interests, looking out for themselves and their friends.” 

Citizens will be wary of any attempts to change the rules of the game, but particularly if these changes are defined by those who benefit the most from the current rules. Thus, efforts to rebuild the foundations of modern democracy, be it in the US or elsewhere, are unlikely to be sustainable if citizens are not effectively included in the process. In that case, why not constitute a large citizens’ assembly on democratic reform, to be subsequently validated through the popular vote? Or, as suggested by Archon Fung, why not empower ordinary citizens to make recommendations to Congress and the administration on how to address democratic issues?

The modalities for citizen involvement in this process are multiple. And while some models may be more feasible than others, one thing is certain: tokenistic approaches to citizen participation in democratic reforms are equally doomed to fail. Addressing the challenges highlighted by this survey will require more than politics as usual. But this can also be an opportunity for Americans to collectively reimagine the democracy they want. 

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2020 and beyond: 11 predictions at the intersection of technology and citizen engagement

pic by @jmuniz on Unsplah

The rapid evolution of digital technologies has been changing relationships between governments and citizens around the world.  These shifts make it the right time to pose the key question a new World Bank publication explores: 

Will digital technologies, both those that are already widespread and those that are still emerging, have substantial impacts on the way citizens engage and the ways in which power is sought, used, or contested?

The report, Emerging Digital Technologies and Citizen Participation, benefits from the insights of 30 leading scholars and practitioners, and explores what technology might mean for citizen engagement and politics in the coming years. 

The report argues that, regardless of lower technology penetration levels, and given more malleable governance contexts, developing countries may be more influenced by the effects of emerging technologies than older states with greater rigidity and legacy technologies. Digitally influenced citizen engagement is potentially a “leapfrog” area in which developing nations may exploit emerging technologies before the wealthier parts of the world.  

But countries can leapfrog to worse futures, not only better ones. The report also conveys concerns about the negative effects digital technologies can have on the governance of nations. Yet, despite emerging challenges, it contends that new and better citizen engagement approaches are possible. 

What is missing from public discourse is a discussion of the wide range of options that citizens and decision-makers can call upon to enhance their interactions and manage risks. To consider these options, the report makes 11 predictions regarding the effects of technology on citizen engagement in the coming years, and their policy implications. It also offers six measures that would be prudent for governments to take to mitigate risks and leverage opportunities that technological development brings about. 

None of the positive scenarios predicted will emerge without deliberate and intentional actions to support them. And the extent to which they can be shaped to further societal goals will depend on constructive dialogue between governments and citizens themselves. Ultimately, this new publication aims to contribute to this dialogue, so that both developing and developed countries are more likely to leap into better futures. 

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Text co-authored with Tom Steinberg, originally cross-posted from the World Bank’s Governance for Development blog. You can also read another article about this report in Apolitical here. While I’m at it: if you work in public service and care about making government work better, I highly recommend Apolitical, a peer-to-peer learning platform for government, sharing smart ideas in policy globally. Join for free here .

Catching up: civic tech research, crisis of participation in Brazil, podcasts and more

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picture by tollwerk on flickr

The dream consultancy

The Hewlett Foundation is seeking consultants to help design a potential, longer-term research collaborative to study the application of behavioral insights to nudge governments to respond to citizen feedback. This is just fantastic and deserves a blog post of its own. Hopefully I will be able to do that before the EOI period ends.

Rise and fall of participatory democracy in Brazil?

In an excellent article for Open Democracy, Thamy Pogrebinschi and Talita Tanscheit ask what happened to citizen participation in Brazil. The authors note that “The two main pillars on which institutional innovations in Brazil had been erected – extensive institutionalization and a strong civil society – have not been enough to prevent a functioning system of social participation being torn to shreds in little more than a year.”

I have been asked for my take on the issue more than once. Personally, I am not surprised, despite all the institutionalization and the strength of civil society. Given the current Brazilian context, I would be surprised if the participatory spaces the article examines (councils and conferences) remained unaffected.

Playing the devil’s advocate, this period of crisis may also be an opportunity to reflect on how policy councils and conferences could innovate themselves. While they extremely important, one hypothesis is that these structures failed to appropriately channel societal concerns and demands that later exploded into a political crisis, leading to the current situation.

Provocations aside, it is just too early to tell whether this is the definitive death of conferences and councils. And my sense is that their future will be contingent upon two key points: i) the direction that Brazilian politics take following the 2018 general election (e.g. progressive x populist/authoritarian), ii) the extent to which councils and conferences can adapt to the growing disintermediation in activism that we observe today.

The Business Model of Civic Tech?

If you are working in the civic tech space, you probably came across a new report commissioned by the Knight Foundation and Rita Allen Foundation, “Scaling Civic Tech: Paths to a Sustainable Future.” As highlighted by Christopher Wilson at the Methodical Snark, while not much in the report is surprising for civic technologists, it does provide the reader with a good understanding of the expectations of funders on the issue of financial sustainability.

When thinking about business models of civic tech efforts, I wonder how much money and energy were devoted to having governments open up their datasets while neglecting the issue of how these governments procure technology. If 10% of those efforts had been dedicated to reforming the way governments procure technology, many of those in the civic tech space would now be less dependent on foundations’ grants (or insights on business models).

Having said this, I am a bit bothered by the debate of business models when it comes to democratic goods. After all, what would happen to elections if they depended on business models (or multiple rounds of foundations’ grants)?

Walking the talk: participatory grant making?

A new report commissioned by the Ford Foundation examines whether the time has come for participatory grant making. The report, authored by Cynthia Gibson, explores the potential use of participatory approaches by foundations, and offers a “starter” framework to inform the dialogue on the subject.

Well-informed by the literature on participatory and deliberative democracy, the report also touches upon the key question of whether philanthropic institutions, given their tax benefits, owe the public a voice in decisions they make. If you are not convinced, this Econtalk podcast with Bob Reich (Stanford) on foundations and philanthropy is rather instructive. There is also a great anecdote in the podcast that illustrates the point for public voice, as described by Reich:

“So, in the final days of creating the Open Society Institute and associated foundations, there was disagreement amongst the staff that Soros had hired about exactly what their program areas, or areas of focus would be. And, to resolve a disagreement, Soros allegedly slammed his fist on the table and said, ‘Well, at the end of the day, it’s my money. We’re going to do it my way.’ And a program officer that he’d hired said, ‘Well, actually Mr. Soros, about 30% or 40% of it would have been the taxpayer’s money. So, I think some other people actually have a say in what you do, here, too.’ And he was fired the next week.”

Democracy podcasts real-democracy-now-logo-jpg

Talking about podcasts, the Real Democracy Now Podcast is fantastic. It is definitely one of the best things out there for practitioners and scholars working with citizen engagement.

Although broader in terms of the subjects covered, Talking Politics by David Runciman and Catherine Carr is another great option.

Other tips are more than welcome!

And this is brilliant…

(via @oso)

Other interesting stuff you may have missed

Study analyzing Pew survey data suggests a “gateway effect” where slacktivism by the politically uninterested may lead to greater political activity offline

Seeing the World Through the Other’s Eye: An Online Intervention Reducing Ethnic Prejudice

Smartphone monitoring streamlined information flows and improved inspection rates at public clinics across Punjab (ht @coscrovedent)

The Unintended Effects of Bottom-Up Accountability: Evidence from a Field Experiment in Peru

Literature review: does public reporting in the health sector influence quality, patient and provider’s perspective?

World Development Report 2016: Digital Dividends

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The World Development Report 2016, the main annual publication of the World Bank, is out. This year’s theme is Digital Dividends, examining the role of digital technologies in the promotion of development outcomes. The findings of the WDR are simultaneously encouraging and sobering. Those skeptical of the role of digital technologies in development might be surprised by some of the results presented in the report. Technology advocates from across the spectrum (civic tech, open data, ICT4D) will inevitably come across some facts that should temper their enthusiasm.

While some may disagree with the findings, this Report is an impressive piece of work, spread across six chapters covering different aspects of digital technologies in development: 1) accelerating growth, 2) expanding opportunities, 3) delivering services, 4) sectoral policies, 5) national priorities, 6) global cooperation. My opinion may be biased, as somebody who made some modest contributions to the Report, but I believe that, to date, this is the most thorough effort to examine the effects of digital technologies on development outcomes. The full report can be downloaded here.

The report draws, among other things, from 14 background papers that were prepared by international experts and World Bank staff. These background papers serve as additional reading for those who would like to examine certain issues more closely, such as social media, net neutrality, and the cybersecurity agenda.

For those interested in citizen participation and civic tech, one of the papers written by Prof. Jonathan Fox and myself – When Does ICT-Enabled Citizen Voice Lead to Government Responsiveness? – might be of particular interest. Below is the abstract:

This paper reviews evidence on the use of 23 information and communication technology (ICT) platforms to project citizen voice to improve public service delivery. This meta-analysis focuses on empirical studies of initiatives in the global South, highlighting both citizen uptake (‘yelp’) and the degree to which public service providers respond to expressions of citizen voice (‘teeth’). The conceptual framework further distinguishes between two trajectories for ICT-enabled citizen voice: Upwards accountability occurs when users provide feedback directly to decision-makers in real time, allowing policy-makers and program managers to identify and address service delivery problems – but at their discretion. Downwards accountability, in contrast, occurs either through real time user feedback or less immediate forms of collective civic action that publicly call on service providers to become more accountable and depends less exclusively on decision-makers’ discretion about whether or not to act on the information provided. This distinction between the ways in which ICT platforms mediate the relationship between citizens and service providers allows for a precise analytical focus on how different dimensions of such platforms contribute to public sector responsiveness. These cases suggest that while ICT platforms have been relevant in increasing policymakers’ and senior managers’ capacity to respond, most of them have yet to influence their willingness to do so.

You can download the paper here.

Any feedback on our paper or models proposed (see below, for instance) would be extremely welcome.

unpacking

unpacking user feedback and civic action: difference and overlap

I also list below the links to all the background papers and their titles

Enjoy the reading.

Civic Tech and Government Responsiveness

For those interested in tech-based citizen reporting tools (such as FixMyStreet, SeeClickFix), here’s a recent interview of mine with Jeffrey Peel (Citizen 2015) in which I discuss some of our recent research in the area.

 

Ask citizens where public money should go: the results might surprise you

picture by MyTudut on flickr

(NB: article originally published in Capital Finance International)

As citizen engagement gains traction in the development agenda, identifying the extent to which it produces tangible results is essential. Participatory budgeting, a process in which citizens decide upon and monitor budget allocation, offers promising results, including increased local government revenues and reduced infant mortality.

Promoting citizen engagement in the development community: a quest for evidence

In recent years there has been a growing interest in citizen engagement as a means to promote better development outcomes. The Open Government Partnership (OGP), for instance, is a multilateral platform where governments from 66 countries commit, among other things, to promote governments that are more open, participatory and accountable to their citizens. Similarly, Making all Voices Count is an international initiative supported by private donors and development agencies that provides funding to projects that promote “citizen engagement and open, responsive government.”

The rationale behind this renewed enthusiasm for civic engagement is seemingly simple: citizens know best what their needs are and how to address them. Or, as spelled out in the OGP declaration, public engagement “increases the effectiveness of governments, which benefit from people’s knowledge, ideas and ability to provide oversight.” Yet, the evidence on the benefits of citizen engagement often seems fuzzy, scattered and – sometimes – contradictory. However, a clearer picture emerges when we examine some particular practices that fall under the general “citizen engagement” umbrella, of which participatory budgeting is one. Originating from the Brazilian city of Porto Alegre in 1989, participatory budgeting (PB) can be broadly defined as the participation of citizens in the decision-making process of budget allocation and in the monitoring of public spending. Experts estimate that up to 2,500 local governments around the world have implemented PB, from major cities such as New York, Paris, Seville, and Lima, to small and medium cities in countries as diverse as Poland, South-Korea, India, Bangladesh, and the Democratic Republic of Congo.

Over the years, PB has attracted significant attention from scholars and development professionals. As it reaches over a quarter-century of existence, it is generating a substantial amount of evidence of the benefits of involving citizens in budgeting decisions. Here, we briefly examine some of this evidence.

Some argue – and there is growing evidence – that citizen participation increases government tax revenues

At the beginning of the 2000s, researchers studying participatory budgeting began to see an unexpected result, with some municipalities reporting substantive increases in their tax revenues. In 2004, for instance, a comparative study [PDF] of 25 municipalities in Latin America and Europe found a significant reduction in levels of tax delinquency after the adoption of participatory budgeting. But, in reality, how surprising were these findings?

Mostly unknown even among seasoned public engagement advocates, a growing body of evidence in the field of “tax morale” suggests a relationship between citizen participation and tax compliance. The argument, in an oversimplified manner, is as follows: citizens are more willing to pay taxes when they perceive that their preferences are properly taken into account by public institutions. This argument finds ever-growing empirical support. For instance, a number of studies in Switzerland – notably those by the economists Bruno Frey and Benno Torgler – show that Swiss cantons with higher levels of democratic participation present lower tax evasion rates, even when controlling for other factors. Suggesting that this is not simply a Swiss exception, a cross-national study by Friedrich Schneider and Désirée Teobaldelli found that “the effect of direct democratic institutions on the shadow economy is negative and quantitatively important.” These observational findings are increasingly supported by a growing number of controlled experiments across a variety of cultural settings. At odds with conventional economic reasoning, some evidence in the field of “tax morale” suggests that participation may be even more effective at curbing tax evasion than traditional and commonly adopted deterrence measures, such as fines and controls.

In the specific case of participatory budgeting, more robust data is also emerging. For example, a recent working paper by the Inter-American Development Bank presents similar effects of participatory budgeting on revenues in a randomized controlled trial in Russia. As noted by the authors, Diether Beuermann and Maria Amelina, these results are by no means negligible:

Implementing the planning cycle of participatory budgeting increased local revenues per capita by US$30.22 in regions without previous decentralized experience and by US$37.34 in regions with previous decentralized experience […] These are sizeable effects as they represent differences of around 70 percent with respect to the control group mean.

So participatory budgeting is good for tax revenues, but how good is it for citizens themselves?

Participatory budgeting promotes pro-poor spending, better access to services and may even reduce infant mortality

The available evidence suggests that participatory budgeting leads to significant shifts in priorities and policies, towards expenditures that directly benefit the poor. A 2008 World Bank report demonstrated that participatory budgeting has a statistically significant impact on a number of social indicators. Among others, the report highlights that PB is positively and strongly associated with improvements in poverty rates and access to water services.

Despite producing evidence of its effectiveness on a number of fronts over the years, only 25 years after its initial implementation in Brazil do we start to see systematic evidence of sound development outcomes. This is mainly due to two recently released, major studies of participatory budgeting in Brazil. The first, published by Sonia Gonçalves in World Development, finds that municipalities that adopted participatory budgeting in Brazil “favoured an allocation of public expenditures that closely matched the popular preferences and channeled a larger fraction of their total budget to key investments in sanitation and health services.” As a consequence, the author also finds that this change in the allocation of public expenditures “is associated with a pronounced reduction in the infant mortality rates for municipalities which adopted participatory budgeting.” Barely a year later, a study by Michael Touchton and Brian Wampler in Comparative Political Studies generated similar findings, demonstrating that the adoption of participatory budgeting in Brazil is strongly associated with increases in health care spending and decreases in infant mortality rates.

These studies also highlight another important takeaway for those working with development and public sector reform: the need to consider the fact that participatory institutions may take time to produce noticeable effects. As shown by Touchton and Wampler, for instance, the effects of PB adoption become significantly more visible after the fourth year of implementation.

As citizen engagement draws increasing interest in the development agenda, staying focused on which types of processes work and which do not will become particularly relevant. Participatory budgeting offers some promising evidence for policy reformers who want to see tangible impact on the ground, but it might take more than enthusiasm to get there. Determination, and a certain amount of patience, remain essential ingredients when it comes to delivering results.