It is now ten days since my annual lecture on the Power to Create. Writing a set piece speech can be a bit like preparing a big meal. You spend ages on it but it is consumed very quickly with little but some temporarily satiated appetite to show for your efforts. So I am very grateful for the positive feedback I am still receiving.
The full lecture is on the RSA website. But if twenty five minutes viewing is too big an ask, here – thanks in large part to my excellent researcher Carys Roberts – is a reduced and amended version of the speech which you should be able to speed read in five.
The Power to Create
Creativity is often seen as an attribute of certain activities and industries. Fourteen industries such as architecture, fashion and publishing comprise a creative sector that in 2012 contributed £71.4billion to the UK economy and employed 1.68 million British people. This sector has achieved the fastest growth of any UK sector in 2012. Our status as world-leaders in design, arts and television formats brings clear economic benefits as well as being a cause for celebration in its own right. Indeed, the RSA argues strongly for the links between cultural flourishing and social and economic progress.
Yet by focusing on creativity in a growing but discrete section of the economy, we can lose sight of another account of creativity – one that is more universal and democratic. The RSA is starting to explore how the creative life, too often confined to an elite or a sector, should be fostered throughout the economy and society. We are striving to realise the promise of mass creativity. We refer to this idea as the ‘Power to Create’.
At the heart of the Power to Create is a philosophical commitment to the ideal that everyone should be the author of their own lives. As Amartya Sen has put it, ‘the freedom to determine the nature of our lives is one of the valued aspects of living that we have reason to treasure’. While the first aspect of a creative life is individual freedom to think our own thoughts and make our own decisions, it also requires positive freedom and resources to pursue our choices; not just hard resources, but the capabilities and knowledge to be free.
The aspiration of a creative life also requires recognition of our inherently social nature. Our creations, whether performances, products or ideas, are grounded in and find meaning in the social relationships of which we are a part. Thus to prize creativity as a substantive virtue urges our commitment to a society in which this prize is realistically attainable not just for ourselves but for our fellow citizens. The progressive mission is for what Roberto Unger describes as a ‘larger life’ to be available for all.
A creativity tipping point?
Is there any reason to believe the Power to Create is anything other than a distant aspiration? I believe there is. We are reaching a point at which the possibility of, and the need for, a creative citizenry looms before us and presents us with urgent choices.
An increasing supply of creativity
The first changes are around human capability and appetite. In less than two generations we have gone from under 10% to almost half of young people experiencing higher education. While we might lag behind other countries in some areas, our young people are in the top quartile of developed nations when it comes to problem solving ability. RSA research shows more young people than ever before wanting the autonomy of owning their own business even though the returns and security are often lower than a traditional job, and among those opting for employment a growing proportion say they make decisions influenced by the values and ethical practices of employers. Around the developed world more people are making their life goal what the Word Values Survey calls ‘self-expression’.
Technology is the second great engine of change. The internet has led to a step change in affordable easy access to key tools of creativity: learning, communicating, trading and collaborating. In music, films, photographs, blogs, apps and social networks hundreds of millions of people have generated content. Inexpensive platforms such as Etsy and Kickstarter have released waves of human creativity, entrepreneurial aspiration and collaborative endeavour. Peer to peer and sharing economy platforms whether social enterprises like Streetbank or commercial like AirBnB enable anyone to trade, blurring the boundaries between buyer and seller. Human trust and reciprocity are as important as digital algorithms to the success of these platforms.
Technology can reduce autonomy and dull creativity and as it becomes ever more central to our identities we need to have an explicitly political debate about who controls it and for what purpose. Nevertheless, in aggregate, across a wide spectrum of human activity, greater creativity is being enabled and encouraged. And as the rise of music festivals and the makers’ movement show, while the relationship between creativity on and off line is unpredictable, it is also largely positive.
An increasing demand for creativity
The third trend is the increasing demand for a creative citizenry in all sectors. Various factors including the accelerating pace of change in markets, the need for continuous innovation, the expectation of more personalised service and the growing appetite for authenticity and emotional connection in products and services, all increase the premium on the capacity of employees to be creative and self-motivated.
Increasingly the Government too wants creative citizens. In the face of complex problems and the impact of austerity forward thinking public agencies are recognising that their citizens and communities need to be seen as potential assets not just bundles of needs. As Simon Stevens head of NHS England said in June ‘achieving change in the NHS is not merely a techno-rationalist activity, it’s health as a social movement’. Methods of service co-design and co-delivery are being pursued, again blurring the boundary between producer and consumer. Initiatives like Homeshare are modern examples of an old ideal – reciprocal civic relationships offering an alternative or adjunct to public services. Of course, huge challenges like caring for an ageing population, tackling inequality or responding to climate change require concerted action at national, local and international level, but our strategies will also require an adaptive and creative citizenry with the skills and confidence to develop its own solutions.
The barriers to a creative society
In our culture the idea that everyone can and should live creatively is not yet accepted as an aspiration let alone a practical imperative. 43% of the workforce, thirteen million people in the UK report that they are not using their skills at work. In assessing the value of education and employment we still give a relatively low priority to autonomy, engagement and motivation.
A concrete symbol of limited commitment toward the ideal of creative lives for all is the persistence of educational privilege and inter-generational inequality (‘the past devouring the future’ in Thomas Piketty’s memorable phrase). The point is not inequality per se, but that the concentration of wealth and opportunity means key resources that foster creative aspirations and choices are not distributed in the way most likely to maximise the benefits to society as a whole. If we judge social progress by the scale of human creativity extreme inequality is deeply inefficient.
Not only is capital concentrated in certain strata of the population, it is concentrated in assets – like London house values – that do little to expand people’s creative possibilities. Access to relatively small amounts of capital can have a much greater impact on people’s sense of efficacy and opportunity than increases in income, yet a quarter of our adult population effectively have no capital. Some of the first casualties of austerity were initiatives – the child trust fund and the savings gateway – explicitly designed to address this deficit.
The idea that one class is simply by its nature bound to rule another is seen as reactionary and even offensive but the assumption that only a certain strata of people, of learners, of workers, of places can be expected to be creative endures. So long and so deep has that assumption held sway it is deeply inscribed into our society’s institutions.
In the workplace, we assume that only a certain number of roles within the institution can be creative and that an essential role of management systems is to sort posts and people into a pyramidal structure with the most creative jobs at or near the top. Institutions often allocate each individual a role and separate this from the other multiple roles they occupy. We talk about the different interests of teachers, health workers and police officers on the one hand and parents, patients and citizens on the other, but most teachers are parents, all of us will need care at some time and we are all citizens. And institutions too often lose sight of substantive and ethical goals instead prioritising organisational self-interest or – in the public sector – risk avoidance. As John Kay argues, when companies replace the goal of producing great products with maximising share value they easily lose their way. When the only way to cope at work is to leave your identity, values and human sympathies at home in the morning it is not surprising that many people feel demoralised and jaded.
Most large organisations are trying to grapple with these institutional habits and their impact on their capacity to recruit, retain and motivate creative employees. Frederick Laloux cites Morning Star, the world’s largest tomato processing company, as an example of how these barriers can be overcome even in a capital-intensive business working to exacting standards in a traditional industry. Up to 2,400 employees each year run the company entirely on self-managing principles, according to which any ‘colleague’ can make creative decisions, and rather than operating within a hierarchical pyramid colleagues agree to honour commitments to each other. The best schools aren’t just good at getting children through exams, they are intelligent communities.
The role of the state
As a goal, democratic creativity leads to a profound reconsideration of the role and working methods of the state. In some areas the state would do more than at present, in others less.
Greater activism is needed in shaping the market and its outcomes. The creative state would ensure open markets with low barriers of entry and diverse forms of ownership: encourage and enforce permissive intellectual property regimes, demand that utilities and essential services – including the global internet giants – are run to with the public interest at heart, invest in tomorrow’s infrastructure (including new institutions which foster and grow innovation). As Eric Beinhocker and Nick Hanauer have recently argued, the greatest achievements of capitalism lie less in economic growth or profit but in helping find solutions to problems that matter to us. The answer is not reams of flawed regulation (which tends to become outdated as soon as it is implemented) but a new partnership between modern Government and enlightened business based on a shared commitment to a creative economy.
But as well as being more active in markets, the governors of the state – particularly the central state – need to be aware that its scale, complexity and accountability often make it badly suited to human scale interventions. Today’s citizens, aspiring to greater self-determination, want a government that enables them to feel self-reliant not one which creates and reinforces dependency. The creative society would seek to devolve power to the lowest effective level not just because the centre is too distant but because we would encourage different places to do things in substantively different ways, not just experiments in service delivery but experiments in place shaping, indeed experiments in living.
More profoundly the values and analysis behind the Power to Create encourages a questioning of the very idea of traditional policy making. A new policy-making process that fostered mass creativity would see leaders articulating a clear vision as teachers and convenors, not as people who make decisions on our behalf. When it comes to social policy, politicians and managers need to replace the blunt tools of policy making with those of design, in which continuous experimentation, learning by failing, co-producing with consumers and users is the norm.
In the face of the economic stagnation and crises of the 1970s a powerful neo-liberal critique seemed to win the argument that state intervention and the pursuit of social justice and expanding public provision were incompatible with economic dynamism. In response, in the nineties, modernisers like Bill Clinton, Tony Blair and Gerhardt Schroeder developed the argument the goals of social justice were compatible with, indeed complementary to, a successful market economy and that, in turn, a dynamic economy enabled investment in measures to promote justice. Although intellectually more subtle, in practice this approach encouraged a view that as long as the economy was delivering growth the method by which it did so and consequences of that method were largely irrelevant. Thus the rise of speculative finance and the growth of market generated inequality were largely ignored as long as the tax receipts kept rolling in.
Following the 2008 credit crunch there was strong feeling that the nature of the economy itself required re-examining. The power of financial capitalism and the scale of extreme inequality were seen although critical problems although not ones with ready solutions. The big question is whether it is possible to envisage an inclusive, sustainable, economy which contributes to progressive values not just through generating taxable surpluses but through its very mode of operation. Partly spurred by austerity there is also a recognition that social programmes cannot succeed unless in they too – built in to their operating system – enable citizens to grow their individual and collective resilience and problem solving capacity. Furthermore our traditional ways of thinking about politics, policy and social change are proving increasingly inadequate in the face of an ever faster moving and more complex world.
The ‘Power to Create’ moves beyond an instrumental view of the economy, a paternalistic view of social policy and a mechanical model of policy. The radical reform of our economic, social and political institutions must be premised on the historical possibility, and the ethical imperative, of creative lives for all.
Can heritage help close the identity gap at the centre of place shaping?
Over the next two days I am chairing a conference hosted by the Heritage Lottery Fund. I will also be telling the conference about the findings of a small RSA project exploring heritage and its role in local strategic decision making.
It is seven years since Sir Michael Lyons used the phrase ‘place shaping’ as the central concept of his Government sponsored report on the future of local government. Now, a variety of factors, including austerity and some aspects of greater devolution to cities and city regions (with more promised by all parties), has made this concept dominant. Local leaders are recognising ever more explicitly that unless they can turn their localities into places that are economically dynamic and social engaged, the gap between needs and resources will become an unbridgeable chasm.
Looking at these issues from the perspective of the heritage sector it is auspicious that the first item in Lyons’ list of priorities for modern councils was ‘building and shaping identity’. Heritage is, of course, a central component of identity.
This would lead one to imagine that councils and other public agencies in the business of place shaping would see heritage as a set of assets of great significance. Based on field work by the excellent Clare Devaney, we explored this assumption through ‘deep dive’ research in three cities: Stoke on Trent, Manchester and Plymouth.
Heritage certainly matters to local leaders and other civic figures. Many talked passionately about local history both tangibly preserved in buildings and spaces and less tangibly in traditions and social mores.
However, the enthusiasm is much less evident in local strategic policy making. There is an inconsistent and incomplete view of what heritage assets comprise and it often isn’t clear where lead local responsibility for the sector lies (something which will have been exacerbated by the massive reduction in the number of conservation officers employed by councils). Conversely, the local heritage sector itself generally lacks cohesion and leadership, something which contributes to its low profile in strategic forums.
More significantly, the influence of heritage in the definition of place was not consistent. This is bad news for a sector which has already been badly hit by local austerity measures. But it also throws into doubt the whole place shaping project.
It is hard to appreciate local identity without appreciating local history. Yet, without a compelling view of identity referencing the relationship in citizen’s minds between past, present and possible future, how can place be understood let alone shaped? To put it more simply there seems to be an identity gap at the heart of place shaping, one which could in part be filled by an appreciation of heritage as a tangible and intangible asset.
Place shaping involves identifying a place’s distinctive qualities and associations and deciding which of these to emphasise and seek to enhance. It involves mobilising local stakeholders behind an inspiring vision for their place. And it should involve engaging citizens themselves in identifying what they value about where they live and what they want to preserve even as the pace of change accelerates. Sometimes places bring the past into the future in ways which are thoughtful, specific and powerful, other times it is so superficial to be risible; one place we visited had a list of ‘fifty heritage high points’ which included the fact that the Beatles twice played a concert in the city!
Much of this is politically charged. The local public debate is often poised between two contrasting dynamics; on the one hand a sense of loss and often resentment in the face of change and particularly immigration and diversity (captured in the phrases like ‘there’s been a lot of change round here’ or ‘thing’s aren’t like they used to be’). On the other hand, it seems that people arriving new in places have a strong appetite to feel quickly part of their new community and to find routes for engagement.
Our report is in part a critique of the often thin and ahistorical way that place is conceptualised and applied in local strategy, but it is also a challenge to the heritage sector. Locally, organisations need to work better together showing they can recognise the need for hard choices and can bring something of value to conversations that go much wider than their sector. Nationally, peak heritage organisations – like the HLF – could play an important role in exploring the relationship between place shaping and heritage, and identify examples from the UK and around the world of where engaging the heritage sector and thinking more deeply and bravely about the relationship between past, people and progress has contributed to successful local economic and social strategy.
A few years ago it was often assumed that the growing mobility of information, population and capital would make place a less significant factor in our lives. This assumption has been belied by a growing focus on cities, their different performances and potential trajectories, and an emphasis on the local in patterns of engagement, innovation and consumption.
If, when it comes to social and economic policy, ‘place is the place’, this is a huge opportunity for heritage to move from the periphery to the centre of local strategic policy making. The question is whether the sector can raise its sights from the day to day grind of protecting old stuff and fighting for grants to take advantage of this opportunity.
In preparing my annual lecture on the RSA’s new, emerging, world view ‘The Power to Create’, I have reached a section on barriers to people living creative lives. One of these barriers comprises the dead hand of outdated institutions. I have come up with three ways in which institutions stifle creativity. I am looking for readers’ thoughts on these ways; are they right, have I given them fitting names (as always with typologies one tries to be alliterative) and are there others I have missed?
The first creativity-sapping habit of institutions is ‘sorting’. This is a core characteristic of hierarchies, legitimated by values of efficiency and merit. The assumption is that only a certain number of roles within the institution can be creative – in the sense of allowing and expecting autonomy, voluntary engagement and fulfilment – and that a vital role of management systems is to sort posts and people into a pyramidical structure with the most creative jobs at the top along with the most attractive incentives. Along with hierarchical sorting there is also the vertical sorting of skills, tasks and functions.
Recognising the malign impact of sorting is not to ignore the requirements of organisational working. But even taking requirements of clear decision making, functional specialisation and the varying ambitions and life stages of workers into account, there is still a huge amount of dysfunctional sorting in institutions resulting in most workers feeling largely unengaged, unrecognised or irrelevant at work. Facing problems with recruitment, retention and motivation, many organisations are seeking to address the consequences of sorting – but more intractable are its causes in the logic of hierarchical working.
Sorting is also a core purpose – for some, the core purpose – of most education institutions. The ultimate goal of formal education should surely be to inculcate and sustain a love of learning, and to guide young people into finding the areas in which they can most fully and successfully express themselves to the wider benefit of society. Instead we have a system which prizes one set of intellectual attributes and then sees its role as forcing young people to focus on these attributes and then be sorted by whether or not they possess them.
Creative thinking and action often arise from the tensions and synergies which emerge between our different social roles. But ‘splitting’ is a second creativity-constraining habit of institutions. This involves dividing people by their institutional role and separating this from the other multiple roles they occupy. One example is the way we sometimes talk about the different interests of public service workers – teachers, police officers, care workers – and public service consumers – parents, citizens, clients. But, of course, most teachers are parents, all police officers are citizens and most care workers will at some time or another find themselves or a loved one being a client. The question raised by the accusation of producerism made at public service workers (an attitude which is said to be a barrier to innovation and compassion) is not only its extent but how it can come about at all, given that nearly all public service producers are also public service consumers.
This phenomenon is just as common in the private sector. Dan Pink has recently argued that a growing majority of modern jobs involve one form or another of sales. There is nothing inherently problematic about the act of selling – it is the principal way information travels in markets – but when selling involves persuading someone else to do something which you know, or you strongly suspect, is not in their interest it requires the seller to dull his or her moral senses. The most egregious example is the financial services sector where instead of sellers being encouraged to work cooperatively and creatively with clients to discover what their real needs and interests are (as they would want to be treated themselves), they have repeatedly been incentivised to take advantage of information imbalances to mass sell poor products on the basis of misleading information.
Splitting is particularly prevalent in institutions displaying the third creativity inhibitor, ‘subordination’ (can anyone think of a better ‘s’ for this?). The process of subordination was first identified by Max Weber (who was a fan of bureaucracy). He identified the distinction between an institution’s substantive (real world, value-based) goals and its procedural (bureaucratic, rule-based) goals. Weber observed that organisations over time tend to subordinate the former to the latter.
A similar process can be observed in corporations established by innovative producers to offer a market-beating service or product, which subsequently become obsessed by size or shareholder returns. John Kay cites ICI as a business that was highly successful while its goal was to be a world class chemicals company but which soon crashed after it changed its goal and strategy, explicitly subordinating everything to the maximisation of shareholder returns.
Subordination also happens in organisations that claim to be operating in the public interest. Instead of creatively working through the inherent tensions between short term organisational interests and public duty, institutions tend to subordinate the latter to the former (dealing with the cognitive dissonance this involves by asserting an identity between the two). The Police Federation was a classic example of this process, which is why it was such a turning point when it adopted in full the recommendations of the independent/RSA panel.
One obvious riposte to all this is that people can be creative doing bad stuff as well as good. The phrase ‘creative accounting’ springs to mind. My response – which may sound naive – is that people will on the whole be more creative when they feel they are doing something which is valuable and valued. But this is for another part of the speech to address…..
I have been trying to use my preferred way of thinking about human motivation and social power to develop the RSA’s emerging world-view, ‘The Power to Create’. In this regard I am grateful for an idea given to me by public intellectual and social innovator Charles Leadbeater (who will be speaking soon at the RSA about his new book ‘The frugal innovator’.
Charlie tells me that from his own direct observations he has come to the conclusion that the most innovative and successful organisations are ‘creative communities with a cause’. The potential synergy between my simplified application of cultural theory and the goal of greater creative capacity is obvious (well, to me, at least): Broadly, the three ‘c’s in Charlie’s phrase line up respectively with the three sources of social power in my account; the individualistic (creative), the solidaristic (communities) and the hierarchical (cause).
A concern with The Power to Create has been its lack of ethical substance; looking out on the inequalities and wastefulness of modern society the question asked is ‘whose power to create what?’ A focus on the role of human drives in the effectiveness of organisations, people and places doesn’t solve this problem, but it might help.
Going in reverse order, consider the critical polarities for each drive:
The production and maintenance of rationality is often the role assumed by leaders and the hierarchical systems over which they preside. But in his study of bureaucracies (of which he was generally a fan), Max Weber made the powerful distinction between substantive rationality (directed at ends/outcomes/values) and procedural rationality (directed at means/procedures/rules). Organisations are established to pursue substantive rationality but over time, as they become institutionalised, procedural rationality often starts to dominate.
By the idea of ‘cause’ Charlie’s description of the most effective organisations implies leaders who maintain a focus on substantive (value) based rationality rather than procedural (process based) rationality. Interestingly, there is growing emphasis in debates about corporate responsibility of the ideal of purpose driven organisations.
People on the left often assume that solidarity is their kind of thing. But this human drive – based on shared norms, identity and values – is characteristic of racist populism as well as workers’ cooperatives. The key polarity here may be between ‘solidarity for’ and ‘solidarity against’, both in term of identity (an expansive versus an exclusive bond) and mobilisation (cooperation to develop solutions versus cooperation simply to mobilise protest).
The context in which Charlie uses the word ‘community’ implies an expansive idea based on a constructive activity.
The Power to Create is an alternative to a previous, less stirring, definition of the RSA’s mission, namely ‘enhancing human capability’. A focus on capability points to the key polarity when it comes to the individualistic drive. This is between the fulfillment of individual appetites (for stuff, power, wealth or whatever) versus a notion of human development. There are many versions of the latter and RSA folk are particularly keen on that of Robert Kegan but the key point is that this is an idea of individual aspiration linked to self-discipline and self-knowledge as well as self-expression.
By using the descriptor ‘creative’ the implication of Charlie’s phrase is that the individualist drive in the most effective and innovative organisations is directed to personal growth and pride in craft rather than success measured only by income or promotion.
For me the most intriguing aspect of the Power to Create is that it implies two distinct but overlapping ideals, one with a primarily idealistic rationale and the other responding to more practical imperatives: first, citizens being able to create the lives they choose; second, an economy and society characterised by mass creativity.
The kind of creative organisations, places and societies needed to pursue both these goals would, according to this account, tend to exhibit leadership based on substantive rationality, forms of solidarity that are inclusive and constructive, and a developmental model of individual aspiration.
Certainly, as we look at the largely depressing tableau of modern politics and public discourse, to make the case for idealistic leadership, for forms of belonging which are generous and optimistic and a model of human success which is to do with being rounded productive citizens rather than wealth-hoarders or consumers – well, it seems pretty revolutionary.
I agree with Adam Lent. There is no fundamental reason why the accelerating capacity of new technology to undertake tasks previously the domain of skilled humans should lead us to be pessimistic about the prospects for social progress. All things being equal, rising productivity driven by technological advance provides the basis for sustained economic growth and sustained economic growth (especially if that growth is focussed on the quality not the quantity of production) should mean more people being able to pay each other to have their needs met and desires fulfilled.
But, of course, all things are not equal. As Andrew McAfee and Erik Brynjolfsson recognise in ‘The Second Machine Age’ the impact of technological change both reflects and reinforces aspects of the social arrangements in which it appears. Neither economic nor technological determinists are right, as Evgeny Morozov has argued, different technologies interact with social reality in ways which reflect specific aspects of each. For example, email is functional for bureaucracies while social media tends to be disruptive and Twitter can be effective both as a way of mobilising protest and as a means to monitor dissent.
Thus the biggest danger of the coming third industrial revolution/second machine age (or whatever we choose to call it) is that it has the potential to map onto and further widen inequality in an era when national Governments seem particularly powerless to intervene on behalf of the greater good. Imagine if Google had been invented in the 1950s (yes, I know that was before the internet but stick with me): It would have been assumed that such a ubiquitous and essential service which makes its money largely out of expropriating other people’s labour (content) would have been at the very least highly regulated and taxed and more likely brought into public ownership.
Among the characteristics which lead McAfee and Brynjolfsson to believe that intelligent computing power will further widen inequality are these: it is only the most creative and ‘special’ people who will still have something to offer than robots don’t; and digitally based innovations can spread very quickly making huge monopoly profits for inventors and investors until another innovation comes along to make another killing for another group of super clever or super rich individuals.
Another related factor concentrating power and wealth are network effects which mean that the bigger the market share achieved by a platform, the more effective it is and the more able it is to withstand and buy out competition (think of the respective dominance and scope for rent-seeking profits of Google, Facebook, Amazon, Twitter and Kickstarter).
Without action technological change will reinforce already wide inequality. Compare this with the middle of the last century: the inventions of the first machine age – domestic electricity, motor cars and white goods – achieved ubiquity among Western consumers at a time when a much higher proportion of economic growth was recycled into the income of ordinary workers. Now – as Thomas Piketty eloquently argues – the proceeds of growth are being grabbed and hoarded by the already wealthy.
So, whilst Adam is right that we should reform education and pursue other policies to prepare our populations for the challenges and opportunities of the second machine age, these challenges will be much harder, and opportunities much fewer, unless Governments (working at home and internationally) can develop the legitimacy, confidence and know-how to ensure the benefits of the next technological revolution are fairly and wisely distributed.
Which reminds me of another of Adam’s blogs, this one on Moses Naim’s analysis of the decline of big power, particularly that of the state. The American sociologist Daniel Bell once argued that in the modern world the nation state would come to be seen as ‘too big for the small things in life and too small for the big things’. I have tended to think of this as being about the spatial dimension of governance; the need for greater devolution to localities, on the one hand, and greater international collaboration, on the other, but it is more deeply a point about power.
I have repeatedly argued that central Government and its traditional policy tools are becoming ever more blunt and dysfunctional when it comes to social policy. Yet we desperately need the unique democratic authority of Government to tackle some of the biggest problems we face; on climate, inequality, infrastructure, regulating finance, and global security. When Piketty argues for a global wealth tax or McAfee and Brynjolfsson join the ranks of those who support a minimum income guarantee, it is not so much that people object to the proposals as that they have little faith in Government to be able to enact them successfully.
All of which leads to me to conclude that part of the RSA’s pursuit of what we call the ‘Power to Create’ (releasing the creativity inherent in all of us) must be about 21st century statecraft. Technology is the most powerful single force in the modern world but its impact depends to a large degree on the choices we have made and the choices we will make. Democracy is the way we make those choices at a collective level. Unless democracy works better in twenty-first century conditions then there is no guarantee that technological progress will beget human progress.