My local authority want me to have my say in how they spend and collect their money. When I got home, I visited the www.barnet.gov.uk/budget site accordingly.

It was quite good. It  went some way towards explaining how the council is funded and what it spends its money on. There are some big headline graphs that show “Barnet Council’s back office costs are amongst the lowest in London” and “Barnet receives substantially less financial support from central Government than the London average.”

It also has a budget simulator using Delib’s platform. For some reason, it only offers us the option to see the impact of budget reductions in specific policy areas (I’d like to see options to increase some of the spends). For the sake of completeness, there’s a detailed document that shows the figures tabulated, and if anyone had the time and energy, they could go through the figures and raise questions about particular elements.

But Barnet deserve credit for having also taken the figures and poured them into a good info-graphic (by the way, I’m including these images just in case they are taken down when the consultation ends).

All-in-all though – leaving the graphic aside, I couldn’t help feeling that the whole thing was being framed to suit a desired outcome. I’m sure that there are comparison charts where Barnet’s performance is closer to the mediocre than the outstanding.

Now Barnet are something of a controversial local authority. They fell out with Ken Livingstone when they removed a lot of traffic calming measures a few years ago. As the Association of British Drivers put it, “Barnet is on the front line against Ken Livingstone and TfL’s anti-car policies by adopting common sense policies on transport.” They also have a hawkish approach to social care and the EasyCouncil model are not without its critics.

I’m not here to go over these issues, but it’s worth looking at some of the more bog-standard questions that I think a lot of councils would benefit from answering. My biggest problem with the way Barnet are doing this (and I should be clear, I’m picking on Barnet because I live there – you could do a similar exercise with any council, and you may find that Barnet have gone further than most in even bothering to ask) is that there seems to be a political and managerial monopoly on the framing of the consultation.

Surely the opposition groups could have been provided with comparable resources to describe the situation differently and frame the options to suit their agendas?

Or even better, they could have adopted the following workflow:

1. Follow The Conservative Party’s lead in using Google Moderator to crowdsource a set of questions from the public. Get dozens of people to ask questions (invite texts and tweets – they don’t need to all be from local residents!) and try to drive thousands of people to bid those questions up or down. Texts are crucial here – any local lists that can be used, and any way of incentivising people to do so – perhaps even a small prize for the selected questions?
2. Then commit to getting an independent body (not selected by the council) to answer those questions on the council’s behalf. Invite all councillors to provide their own commentaries on the answers if they wish.
3. Provide the raw data and offer a cash prize (say £3k?) to anyone who can take that data and use it to help visualise what the key decisions are most effectively. Invite a group of local residents to award that prize to the people who help improve their understanding and clarify the issues the best
4. Only then, present your options to the public – and get indicative results by reaching out over the heads of the hard-to-avoids to the hard-to-reach local residents – I have a suggestion of how this could be done here.

None of this is likely to prove too attractive to councils for two reasons.

Firstly, it takes a lot of power out of the hands of unelected officials – the monopoly on describing problems was always a key weapon in Sir Humphrey’s armoury. Secondly, Barnet’s Tories would only have been human if they’d framed the questions that they wanted answered. Most ruling local groups will do this. But they did so, and it’s a bit naughty, isn’t it?

However, I’d suggest that councils may be pleasantly surprised if they did it my way. The biggest thing missing from Barnet’s current consultation model is that there is very little space for the public to tell everyone something that they didn’t already know about Barnet’s policy options.

Cllr Doherty is a bit glum

Well, there’s Cllr Doherty (pictured):

“If this corner doesn’t qualify as a dangerous bend, I don’t know what does,” said Cllr Doherty standing at the corner … in the road … with his back to the oncoming traffic.

You’ve probably seen the MyDavidCameron site? Whatever you think to the politics of taking the tiddle out of the Tory leader, I like the quality of the site. They’ve not allowed themselves to be overwhelmed with tedious pointscoring and there are quite a few gentle (or even absurd) little digs.

I’m not quite sure why, but I firmly believe that if politicians were gently teased a lot more, the country would be all the better for it.

Oddly, I think it’s a game-changing site. Parties are learning that set-piece political campaigns don’t work any more. Big expensive billboard launches (this one is rumoured to have cost £500,000) can be totally derailed by a bit of mild viral ribbing.

My favourites?

or….

As with all political weblogs that host antagonistic debates, there is no shortage of name-calling and point-scoring. But if you ask the readers to look at things from a strategic point of view, you may find out something that you didn’t know in the first place.

Mick is no mean political analyst himself, and nor are his regular contributors. But by inviting commenters to look at thing objectively – to spell out what they see as the strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats that the DUP face, commenters from all sides of the spectrum could at least agree on where the DUP stand on the political chessboard.

It provides a useful tool in any materialist analysis of ‘what will happen next’ because, for all that some politics is, as Harold Wilson put it, “a crusade or it is nothing”, the last few weeks in Northern Ireland have shown that political parties rarely do anything unless it allows them to make the best of whatever strategic hole they are in.

So, having attracted lots of comments over the course of one day, deleted the ones that sought to introduce pointless whataboutery and pointscoring, Mick was left with a couple of dozen nuggets of information.

Next step? Let’s visualise them – put them in a fun-to-fiddle-with application like Prezi: (be patient – it takes a while to load…..)

“Although I acknowledge the value of expertise, we can identify several important general reasons why it is never enough and we always need citizens’ participation to tackle social problems.”

What follows is a list of three reasons why experts shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions on their own. It’s one of the best posts I’ve read on the subject, and rather than spoil it, I’ll urge you to read it all. However, there’s one issue that I’d have near the top of any such list that is missing (to be fair, the post is called Part One, so maybe Part Two is devoted to the question I’m about to raise). It’s this:

• Experts explain awkward issues satisfactorily to other experts. Their explanations are less useful to the lay-person
• Sometimes the public are given a glimpse of the experts’ explanation. More often, they see it through the dysfunctional prism of newspaper journalism
• Politicians – usually generalists -  then have to field an unsatisfactory briefing in the context of a bloody awful report in a newspaper – one that has been seized upon and further distorted by a pressure group of some kind.
• The politician then has to take the consequences of not taking the decision that the newspaper / pressure group prefers. If s/he does this successfully, they may only be substituting a very bad policy with a quite bad one (i.e. one based upon a partial understanding of the expert’s brief)
• And whatever happens, s/he has to bear any consequences of the policy’s failure

However, if more people are able to get at the expert’s advice, mash it around into something that proves to be a more accessible explanation (something that enables to politician to understand what the expert was really saying), then a more participative polity has improved an outcome. It can help to break the hold that newspapers and pressure groups have in describing problems, and this can only be a good thing, surely?

As an aside, Chris Dillow is often very good at dismissing experts in his own inimitable fashion.

Update: Before posting this, I saw that Peter has published part two of his critique of expertise. And he’s interviewed here on blogtalk radio.

I’ve been very interested in Ty Goddard’s work for a while now – BCSE grew partly out of an idea called School Works – a project intended to promote a more participative approach to the design of schools.

The basic premise is a simple one: The more progressive architects have worked out that it is a sensible thing to do to involve residents in the design of their own neighbourhoods. Long before anyone had ever heard of Clay Shirky, there was ample evidence that the people outside an organisation have more knowledge on a particular subject than the people inside the organisation that – supposedly – have specialist skills.

The benefits of co-designing an environment with the people who are going to live in it are obvious. As the blurb on this booklet on consensus design puts it, …“it can have an influence on social stability, crime-reduction, personal health and building longevity, all of which in turn have monetary and environmental cost implications.” Ty surmised that similar benefits could come from a more participative approach to the design of schools.

Now The Centre for School Design is not only – or even mainly – about consensus design. It is about raising the profile – or as counter-terrorism experts put it, the ‘chatter level‘ around the question of education, design and the built environment.

Ty and Ian from BCSE think that this is an important issue – that it has the potential to game-change the education debate. As long as the whole debate remains in narrow silos – dominated by higher-up civil servants, the think tanks that they commission and the commercial players that have the resources to gatecrash that conversation – then the quality of policymaking is likely to be lower. The dangers of regulatory capture and of budget maximisation are higher.

Think tanks, after all, do almost nothing to market the work that they are commissioned to do. Six or seven-figure research contracts that are handed out result in publications that are not disseminated widely or publicised effectively. They are rarely written to be read by parents, teachers, school governors or local councillors. They are written exclusively for the tiny clique of budget-holders that see the final result before handing a sanitised version to the ministers in question. It results in bad and expensive policymaking.

Jenni Russell in the Guardian summarised this beautifully here:

Clarke appeared to be a rare example of an education secretary who was prepared to entertain the possibility that the government wasn’t always right. He published a document encouraging primaries to be more creative and flexible in their teaching, but he moved on before he could lend political muscle to that instruction.

Since then, every education secretary and minister has been distinguished by an almost wilful determination to ignore the mass of research that does not suit their agenda. Politically, that is the easiest choice. They are encouraged in this by their senior civil servants, whose careers have been built around delivering a particular agenda, and who have nothing to gain by seeing it change course. What is truly alarming is that ministers rarely even glimpse the reports they dismiss. Last year I mentioned a particularly critical Ofsted report to one minister. “Oh, my people tell me there’s nothing new in that,” he said, breezily. In fact, it had a great deal that was new, and important, and the individuals who put thousands of man-hours into preparing it were probably writing it for an audience of three – of which the minister who never read it was the most important one.

Increasing the chatter around school design is what The Centre for School Design is all about. The site will make all of their pictures (and they have a vast bank of these) available to journalist under a creative commons licence (eventually – loading up and tagging the pics properly is not a trivial job). Any journo that wants a good quality pic to illustrate a story can use them freely.

Similarly, the C4SD will be paying out the huge bank of case-studies and experience that BCSE have picked up on a daily basis and making it all available under a suitable creative commons licence. The aim is to build up an open, inclusive and growing community that is interested in discussing and explaining the issues around school design to each other. If you want to re-use C4SD content to stoke up the debate, copyright worries won’t get in your way.

In short, I’ve been helping them develop a strategy that pushes their knowledge in an open-handed way to the public. Ty isn’t the classic geek by any means. He’s a highly interactive person as his track-record in promoting participation proves. But, up until now, he’s not used interactive technologies much.

This is the potential that’s going to emerge in the next few years. All of the non-techie-but-very-interactive people are finding these tools are easier and more rewarding to use. Organisations like the C4SD will raise the chatter level and make it harder for narrow cliques to capture and close down public policy discussions in future.

Here’s the Daily Mash’s alternative take. (via @stevemoore4good)

This time, I’m going to cover a range of improvements: how we can make better use of existing content, why we’d want to do so, and I’m going to roughly split these into: (a) technical solutions, and (b) human solutions.

(i) Technology: Aggregation vs. isolation

Political blog aggregators are still very rare, especially in the UK. Creating and maintaining an application that is able to monitor hundreds or thousands of feeds, and produce new, aggregated feeds in a timely fashion, is neither trivial nor cheap. Nonetheless, when I created Bloggers4Labour in early 2005, I showed that usable aggregators were both possible, and – certainly at the time – desirable. By providing the media with a single window onto a wide range of blogging opinion, the blogging oligarchy I mentioned last week could perhaps have been broken.

Only when all blogs are aggregated – on an equal footing, and irrespective of their political affiliation and their nationality – can the blogosphere becomes the comprehensive, fair, and effective knowledge base it needs to be. We don’t want to throw contextual information away, but rather than let it entrench artificial barriers, we should let technology draw its own, more useful inferences.

Thus aggregation should become the norm, rather than the exception – or rather, the least we should expect. Furthermore, bloggers should be encouraged to leave the safety of their partisan networks, and become global political actors.

(ii) Technology: Breaking-down barriers

Rather than being bound by technological limitations and by non-interoperable software tools, and rather than advocating one particular package or way of working, any new crowdsourcing platform should use technology to enable everyone concerned with policy development can participate in a more informed and productive way.

Imagine a knowledge base that not only lets you see related content for any article you read, but that automatically updates you with content as you start to develop a new article. You might discover articles that refuted the argument you just made, that provided you with valuable supportive evidence, or that caused your article to take a different path. Imagine how easy it would be for a policy to have been decided-upon without those crucial points ever having been made, and how expensive and time-consuming a failed policy like that could be.

The old ‘linear’ aggregator model – with its single time-line of unrelated blog posts – is not much help here. Only by bringing all types of expressed opinion together on an equal basis, collapsing the distinctions between the various types, and replacing single time-lines with a web of matched, linked, and related information, can we achieve a really usable knowledge base, that’s easy to visualise and to navigate.

Debategraph-style maps, collaboratively edited documents and Wikis, and aggregated blog content will all be represented in this web. There may well also be a place for Twitter messages and open-source Government data. The overall goal should be to let structured data and mappings bring precision to blog posts, and to let blog posts bring context and detail to structured debates.

(iii) Technology: The Semantic Web

Technical solutions that understand the content they are given will always produce more relevant results than the 99% that don’t. Furthermore, solutions that use sentiment analysis can identify whether a particular individual, or concept, is being talked about in a positive, neutral, or negative light. This opens up the possibility of being able to automatically identify supporting or contradictory evidence for policies mentioned in existing articles, and in new policy documents as they are created. Once again, technology plus existing content can be used to support good policy, strike out bad policy, and save time and effort, not to mention embarrassment.

(iv) Human crowdsourcing: Collaborative editing

Collaborative editing – currently a niche interest – should become the norm, in contrast to the disjointed, sequential model of blog-commenting that is popular today. It is literally vital because it adds value, and adds life to already expressed opinion. The blog post of last year – that was overtaken by events and discredited – can be transformed into the post that acknowledges its original mistakes, assimilates new information, and becomes a valuable addition to the policy debate.

Collaborative editing also accustoms bloggers to a new way of working: by exposing them to scrutiny it encourages more thought and greater responsibility, but at the same time it rewards the extra effort, by giving bloggers – especially new ones, those who are less well-connected, and therefore those who might have the most original ideas – the encouragement that their output is being read and considered by a wider audience than before. While firing off posts into the ether can be cathartic, my experience tells me that bloggers do prefer to be engaged in a greater debate.

In future, contributors will adapt an existing blog post – working within the existing context – and create new branches, or sub-versions, that other contributors can approve and rate, and use as the basis for their own versions. Over time, the most active, the most popular, and the most highly regarded versions will rise to the surface. It may be that these versions will be quite different from one another – after all, while agreement and resolution are fine things, political disagreement can also be valuable, and these versions will be much more useful themselves than the undistilled thoughts of just one blogger.

There is no reason why those used to the current model of blog commenting should not contribute by adding their suggestions at the foot of the original article, rather than working within the framework of the original. Potentially useful insights should not be lost, even if they cannot immediately be related to the existing content. The important thing is that contributors are not limited – or forced to work in a particular way – by technology that dates back to the early days of the Web.

(v) Human crowdsourcing: Juries, assertion-flagging, and data cleanup

There’s a lot more humans can do with a crowdsourcing platform besides creating new content (individually or collectively), flagging, and rating.

The platform can invite – or randomly select – disinterested participants (i.e. who don’t have a personal connection with the issue at hand) to work together on a particular debate, marking up relevant arguments, marking down irrelevant arguments, linking similar ones, and perhaps trying to find resolutions in other areas: essentially doing things that are just too tricky for a computer to do. The Guardian’s recent, and very successful, crowdsourced MP’s expenses exercise is a good example of this. Provide users with an incentive to donate their time and brainpower to the community, and great benefits can be reaped.

Another task humans can perform is to manually tag assertions within articles they read, and ask the platform to contact the original author / blogger so that they can respond with supporting evidence. Those who respond satisfactorily will be given credit for having done so, and their response will be attached to the original article, taking its place in the knowledge base for others to consult.

(vi) Conclusion

I hope I’ve succeeding in setting out a brighter vision of how crowdsourcing can improve policymaking, making it better informed and more efficient; how technology can be used more, and more effectively; how political blogging has a potentially enormous part to play; and how bloggers have a lot to gain by getting involved with a new crowdsourcing platform.

In the next part I’ll talk about how the desire to achieve these things inspired my Poblish project, and how Poblish plans to turn these hopes into reality.

Slow-loading screens weed out all but the most determined

So people using the Internet for online transactions will only put the time in if it’s worthwhile to them, is this true for people going online to ‘have their say’? If they get some utility out of it (be it lower taxes / regulatory burdens or a sense of self-satisfaction in doing the right thing)? If we apply this to e-participation, the only conclusion that we can draw is that it will tend towards creating an auction house where policy is driven either by self-interest of self-satisfaction. Or, put another way, the dictatorship of the greedy and the smug.

As the analysis of people doing e-transactions with local government, we should surely apply an understanding of utility to all interactions with government. It will happen when people get something out of it. More importantly, they apply the same ‘opportunity cost’ calculation to it as they would to anything else. Do I need to be doing something else with my time?

Of course, this makes a massive case for investment in ‘usability’ (and going beyond usability – almost into seduction) – making the online experience a compelling and pleasurable one. Compelling, not compulsory, as David Barrie puts it here. The ‘Nudge‘ argument, if you like? But it also makes the case for investment of time and energy in ways of getting people to make quick light responses on issues where they care very slightly rather than strongly.

Is there a case for using mobile phones to do surveys – sending people text messages and saying ‘answer our five questions and we’ll refund £2 from your council tax.’ This will incentivise people who….

• don’t have access to a computer, sufficient bandwidth or a local authority that could design a usable interface if their lives depended upon it
• don’t care about specific issues enough to sit through a clunky consultation questionnaire online
• think that saving £2 would make a slight difference to their lives

In other words, exactly the opposite kind of people who normally get involved in consultations in order to provide responses that are unrepresentative (and therefore, often worthless). If – instead of valuing people’s time at £0, we value it at £2 (or whatever figure finds the right equilibrium), we will get a more representative sample of collective wisdom.

I’ve been researching mobile phone multi-question survey platforms and I’d be interested to see if any local authority and government body would consider this approach instead of the usual ‘come to our website and Have Your Say’?

“Some of Britain’s most impressive internet policy experts had long been trying to break down this particular door. Ex-MP Richard Allan. Cabinet Office Minister Tom Watson. Internet gurus Tom Steinberg, and Tom Loosemore. Former Number 10 policy advisor William Perrin. All bounced back dazed when they tried shoulder charging the Ordnance Survey’s door, as if tripped up by a canny geographer’s sandal on their run up. So my colleague Tom Chatfield and I decided we that needed to find out exactly how the man who invented the web had managed to reinvent the rules of British data.”

Via Tom Watson MP.

There’s also a good section in which Sir Tim Berners-Lee explains what the semantic web is in fairly straightforward terms.

View it here, by all means, but do visit the site as well if you can?

For me, the most exciting bit is that it allows people to see things in new ways and conceptualise problems differently. Poor policy-making costs us a fortune and results in missed opportunities. I’m not sure that Brian Hoadley fully gets this when he says:

“I’ve been waiting for Joe Bloggs on the street to mention in passing – “Hey, just yesterday I did ‘x’ online” and have it be one of those new ‘Services’ that has been developed from the release of our data. (Note: A Joe Bloggs who is not related to Government or those who encircle Government. A real true independent Citizen.)

It may be a long wait.”

Meantimes, here’s Stuart on Lichfield’s data and what it adds to the knowledge of local authorities about their own area, as well as our knowledge about our local authorities.