Reanimating Regional

Delicious Deception

This essay outlines the regional biases of Spanish railway connectivity, reassesses the role of Castilla in the national railway, and ponders the balance between actuality and perception inherent in Adolfo Suárez’s doctrine of “café para todos“. “Reanimating Regional” is the fifth essay in the sequence “Café Para Todos“, an exploration of the contemporary relationship between the railways and the people of Spain. The first essay, “Saving Ferroviarias“, reviews the broad policy context of Spain’s passenger railways, highlighting the residual tension between pre and post-democratic eras, the financial impetus to make the high speed network more viable, and the evolving policy paradigm of rationalisation. “Disassembling Trenes“, the second essay in the sequence, deconstructs Spain’s current passenger railways to expose the deceptions of AVE and nation therein. “Deconstructing Estaciones” provides a demographic analysis of Spain’s railway stations, that explores the unserved areas and probes the differences between regions. The fourth, “Understanding Obligación“, builds a model of the human connectivity offered by Spain’s railways, revealing the patterns between Spaniards and the democractic tension therein, with income analysis that explores the import of “Obligación de Servicio Público”.


The previous essay, “Understanding Obligación“, modelled connectivity nationally, as expected by the national deception explained in the second essay, “Disassembling Trenes“. Yet throughout this sequence of essays evidence has emerged that points to an actuality that is altogether more local, especially on the periphery. The connectivity model is limited by its use of municipal geography, which logically precludes analysis within municipalities, but can give some indication of the importance of locality by additionally restricting connections to those wholly within specific geographic regions – Autonomous Communities or Provinces. The regional indices reflect how well people within a particular geographic area are connected to each other, not how well they are connected to major populations elsewhere in Spain, and consequently can produce very different results to the national model. The construction of the regional index’s population weighting differs slightly, with each region weighted by its proportion of the total analysed (Spanish) population. The result is interpreted the same as before, with 100 representing an average Spaniard in an “average” region (Autonomous Community or Province). That there physically is no such average place can make the regional index values slightly misleading if read in isolation. In particular, Autonomous Communities which contain only one province attain different indices for the same internal network because the overall average changes – the comparison is to communities and provinces respectively. However, since all indices notionally average to 100, direct comparison is possible. The table below shows the passenger rail connectivity of each province to the whole nation, their own community, and their own province. Initial analysis is for all operators, since non-Renfe services can become important within regions. The strength of each area’s “localism” or “nationalism” is expressed as “regionalism”: The bias toward either province (positive percentages) or nation (negative percentages), calculated as, (community + province) – (national + community), divided by the average of all three indices. The variance is that of all three indices, low variance indicative of consistency between each index.

Regionalism in Peninsula Railway Connectivity
Province and Community Connectivity Index (100 is “average”) Regionalism
National Community Province Bias Variance
Almería 50 124 45 -8% 19
Cádiz 109 308 183 +37% 101
Córdoba 191 421 84 -46% 297
Granada 26 163 116 +88% 48
Huelva 64 118 90 +29% 7
Jaén 81 176 134 +41% 23
Málaga 137 296 121 -9% 94
Sevilla 182 551 166 -5% 475
All Andalucía 120 319 129 +5% 127
Huesca 56 48 99 +63% 8
Teruel 39 35 83 +83% 7
Zaragoza 375 98 78 -162% 276
All Aragón 287 83 82 -136% 139
Asturias 158 238 298 +60% 49
Cantabria 85 199 250 +93% 71
Ávila 107 274 91 -10% 103
Burgos 226 377 87 -61% 211
León 182 289 173 -4% 42
Palencia 235 376 102 -56% 188
Salamanca 91 223 79 -9% 64
Segovia 124 220 81 -31% 51
Soria 74 17 77 +6% 11
Valladolid 239 461 76 -63% 373
Zamora 68 78 71 +4% 0
All Castilla y León 171 305 99 -37% 109
Albacete 200 390 126 -31% 185
Ciudad Real 160 250 219 +28% 21
Cuenca 100 140 90 -8% 7
Guadalajara 131 91 121 -9% 4
Toledo 66 52 66 +1% 1
All Castilla-La Mancha 126 179 125 -1% 10
Barcelona 284 413 346 +18% 41
Girona 75 134 189 +86% 32
Lleida 176 173 150 -16% 2
Tarragona 159 216 384 +89% 138
All Catalunya 244 350 323 +26% 31
Araba 265 210 67 -110% 105
Bizkaia 111 325 305 +78% 140
Gipuzkoa 149 269 314 +68% 73
All Euskadi 147 290 272 +53% 61
Badajoz 67 262 214 +81% 103
Cáceres 73 194 133 +45% 37
All Extremadura 69 237 184 +70% 73
Coruña, A 98 322 205 +51% 125
Lugo 97 182 118 +16% 20
Ourense 139 301 111 -15% 105
Pontevedra 134 341 154 +9% 131
All Galicia 115 309 165 +26% 101
Madrid 476 135 169 -118% 353
Murcia 190 152 190 +0% 5
Navarra 141 95 119 -19% 5
La Rioja 142 80 100 -39% 10
Alacant 131 248 244 +55% 45
Castelló 173 299 219 +20% 41
València 216 434 285 +22% 124
All Valenciana 179 349 262 +31% 72

Community connectivity indices tend to be higher than national connectivity indices: As introduced in the previous essay, “Understanding Obligación“, passenger rail is simply a better match to geography on the scale of most Autonomous Communities. In comparison national journeys tend to be too distant to generate sufficient passenger volumes for rail, while journeys within provinces tend to be too local in their character for rail to serve effectively. It is no accident that Renfe’s operations tend to be more regional than national. The exceptions to this pattern are of particular interest. Madrid, the most obvious exception, is discussed in the next section. The Ebro Valley (Huesca, Teruel, Navarra, La Rioja and Zaragoza) again emerges as an exception, its patterns owing much to the awkward set of Modern political boundaries, discussed both in the previous essay, “Understanding Obligación“, and again in the conclusion of this essay. Zaragoza emerges as the most nationally biased province in Spain – little Madrid, as Zaragoza was previously attributed, even outdoing the national bias of its namesake.

The term “regionalism” has been used nebulously, to apply to both Autonomous Communities and provinces, because some regions are specifically skewed to community connectivity, and some to provincial connectivity. Andalucía, both overall and by province, clearly emphasises the connectivity within its Autonomous Community, which is consistently much higher than both national and provincial connectivities. The province of Sevilla is not just the best connected of any province to its respective community, but the individual municipalities of Sevilla and neighbouring Dos Hermanas compute the highest Community Connectivity Indices of any municipality in Spain – indices which are more than three times higher than their respective connectivities to their own provinces. For Andalucía, “cohesión territorial” evidently applies to the territory of the Autonomous Community, yet this pattern runs counter to recent policy – both national attempts to link Andalucían cities to Madrid at high speed, and local metro-building, which is primarily municipal. Such policy might be explained as a contemporary attempt to readjustment the role of railways, away from that within the community, but it seems more likely that current policy merely reflects the current gap in funding discussed in the earlier essay, “Disassembling Trenes“: Adequate funding is only available for national LAV or local tram schemes – the Junta de Andalucía’s attempt to fund its own Sevilla-Antequera (for Granada and Málaga) LAV route having comprehensively failed. That the community even tried to build its own internal high speed railway, a feat no other Autonomous Community has seriously attempted on its own, can be attributed to Andalucía’s particular emphasis on community connectivity. Although, by attempting to build the line to the already best-connected capital city and province, Sevilla, the Junta might reasonably be accused of regional centralism – which, given the provincial tensions of Andalucían politics, is also a logical cause of failure.

Galicia follows a broadly similar, but less pronounced, pattern to Andalucía, with rail primarily serving community cohension, not the nation or the more local, with recent Galician politics also emphasising internal AV connectivity. The other “historic communities”, Catalunya and Euskadi (the Basque Country), show stronger biases towards provincial connectivity, as perhaps befits their contemporary political separatisms, especially once their outliers (Lleida and Araba) are isolated from the analysis. Tarragona has the highest connectivity with its own province of any province in Spain, with Barcelona close behind. Tarragona’s rail-served coastal strip is relatively urban in character, and the strength of the current campaign to retain stations at Salou and Cambrils (scheduled for closure when the parallel LAV line opens) provides some evidence of the importance of rail connectivity within the province – and specifically the tension between the regional promoters of the Mediterranean Corridor and more local public transport interests. As noted in prior analysis, the city of Lleida obtains high national connectivity, primarily through AVE, but the province itself is relatively rural and difficult to serve by rail: That the Generalitat de Catalunya none-the-less persist in trying, most notably in their recent redevelopment of the Pobla de Segur line, can perhaps be attributed to Lleida’s current lack of skew toward provincial connectivity, as found elsewhere in Catalunya. Although Catalunya has a substantial non-Renfe network, especially in and around Barcelona, the additional connectivity it offers is very marginal: The Renfe-only connectivity index for the province of Barcelona is 334, against 346 for all operators. Analysis of only non-Renfe operators scores 332. As argued in The Art of Public Competition, Barcelona gains indirectly, by promoting a form of competition between operators which ultimately raises the connectivity delivered by all.

In the province of València the Autonomous operator FGV delivers more connectivity than Renfe – the Renfe-only index is 205, compared to FGV’s 294 and an all-operator index of 285. While FGV operates a few routes that somewhat parallel Renfe’s, it offers little direct competition of the type seen in the province of Barcelona. Euskadi (the Basque Country) contains even greater difference between Renfe and non, with non-Renfe operators (Euskotren, plus metro in Bilbao) providing up to half the connectivity in the coastal provinces of Bizkaia and Gipuzkoa – both connectivity within province and within community. Even where route competition exists (Donostia-Irun and Bilbao-Santurtzi) non-Renfe services tend to be more frequent, and overall any counter-balance appears more strategic than local. Yet the most curious facet of Euskadi is the province of Araba – in railway terms Gasteiz (Vitoria) – whose national connectivity is the strongest (quite unlike Bizkaia and Gipuzkoa), whose non-Renfe service is a municipal tram (with no impact on connectivity beyond), and whose current railway service pattern is almost incidental (to the provision of longer distance services). How many intending passengers have been confused to learn that Renfe cannot offer a journey, let alone a direct train, between Bilbao and Gasteiz? Gasteiz is a geographic oasis built on a plateau surrounded by mountains, which plays the role of isolated federal capital for the two rival Basque coastal provinces – and if that wasn’t enough, the southern half of Araba wholly contains the enclave of Treviño, which is administratively still part of Castilla y León: There is no shortage of explanation for the vast differences between Araba’s regional connectivity and that of the remainder of Euskadi.

Beyond those Autonomous Communities and provinces discussed above, there is a broad correlation between peripherality and localism: The Asturias, Cantabria and Extremadura are strongly biased toward internal connectivity, Valenciana less so, Murcia balanced, and the Castillas and Ebro tending toward national connectivity – although each contains provincial exceptions. As documented in the previous essay, “Understanding Obligación“, Extremadura’s national connectivity is undeniably poor, with relatively consistent income biases indicating no particular importance attached to any one conectivity scope (of national, community or province). However Extremadura’s internal regional connectivity is much more respectable than its national connectivity, with regional indices in the order of 200. A third of Extremadura’s population is concentrated into its four largest towns (Badajoz, Cáceres, Mérida, Plasencia), which can all be linked together by a single railway service – so what looks like a rudimentary service pattern actually achieves a reasonable level of connectivity for a reasonable proportion of the population. This focus on internal connectivity might help explain why many of Extremadura’s complaints focus on the quality of service delivery, complaints which the political system can only manage through physical assets, especially infrastructure. It follows from Extremadura’s strong internal connectivity that the region’s poor national connectivity is primarily rooted in a limited range of national destinations, something that could perhaps have been improved with some more imaginative service planning. Based on current service patterns, which are entirely OSP state supported, Extremadura’s LAV can expect to be served by a few daily AVE services, primarily carrying (and thus funded through) OSP Avant seats, offering a minimal service pattern which is unlikely to link beyond Madrid, and thus providing much the same national connectivity as now (just faster and more reliable). The Autonomous Community demands LAV as a link to Madrid because those are the terms on which LAV is funded nationally, but if LAV’s prime function is actually regional connectivity – something a Badajoz-Mérida-Cáceres-Plasencia LAV axis would improve still further – then almost any such improvement in Extremadura will create greater inequalities elsewhere, since Extremadura already has as good a regional connectivity as it can fairly expect. Regardless, the question of what policy objective Extremadura’s railways are serving – regional or national, actual or perceived – should raise policy concerns, because the region’s demographics are likely to dictate sustained state support of any future AV operation, support which might prove hard to justify in the midst of any future public funding crisis.

Continue reading “Reanimating Regional”


Deconstructing Estaciones

María Zambrano Dawns

This essay provides a demographic analysis of Spain’s railway stations, that explores the unserved areas and probes the differences between regions. “Deconstructing Estaciones” is the third essay in the sequence “Café Para Todos“, an exploration of the contemporary relationship between the railways and the people of Spain. The first essay, “Saving Ferroviarias“, reviews the broad policy context of Spain’s passenger railways, highlighting the residual tension between pre and post-democratic eras, the financial impetus to make the high speed network more viable, and the evolving policy paradigm of rationalisation. “Disassembling Trenes“, the second essay in the sequence, deconstructs Spain’s current passenger railways to expose the deceptions of AVE and nation therein. The fourth, “Understanding Obligación“, builds a model of the human connectivity offered by Spain’s railways, revealing the patterns between Spaniards and the democractic tension therein, with income analysis that explores the import of “Obligación de Servicio Público”. “Reanimating Regional” outlines the regional biases of Spanish railway connectivity, reassesses the role of Castilla in the national railway, and ponders the balance between actuality and perception inherent in Adolfo Suárez’s doctrine of “café para todos”.

Station Master

The prior analysis of trains in the essay, “Disassembling Trenes“, has provided a broad territorial assessment of Spanish passenger railways, but those trains ultimately serve people, people who access those trains at local stations. Before examining people and “connectivity” in detail – the topic of the next essay, “Understanding Obligación” – an overview of the railway network’s stations is useful. For this analysis, seats on shared trains (for example a regional product offered for local journeys on a longer-distance train) have been apportioned half to each product, and trains that divide into portions have only been counted once over common sections of route. Many of Madrid’s Cercanías line 7 train journeys have been counted twice at central Madrid stations, reflecting the fact that each half of line 7 serves a completely different set of suburban stations – trains on circular services were otherwise counted just once per station served. As described in the previous essay, “Disassembling Trenes“, stations allowing interchange between routes were generally counted as a single station, the main exceptions being neighbouring stations advertised separately for AV and non-AV trains, such Valencia’s Joaquín Sorolla and Nord. Three stations were not included in this analysis due to lack of observed service, but are known to have regular passenger services in term-time (Cadiz and Córdoba university stations) or in one direction only (A Pobra do Brollon in Galicia).

The observed service network contains 2531 railway stations with a daily passenger service. Of these, 1482 (59%) are served by national operator Renfe, 1098 (43%) by another operator, with 49 (2%) served by both. The busiest stations are primarily defined by non-Renfe services, especially metros: Barcelona’s Plaça de Catalunya is the absolute busiest station in Spain for trains, with over 2600 daily (all directions and lines combined), but only 17% of those trains are operated by Renfe. Overall, non-Renfe operators tend to offer much higher frequencies than Renfe, not least because non-Renfe routes tend be urban. Of all non-Renfe served stations, only the eleven stations on the northern half of the Pobla de Segur line (in Catalunya) receive less than 20 trains per day (both directions combined). The Pobla de Segur line is notable for its complex geopolitical history, and in recent decades has gradually shifted its funding, ownership and control from nation to region. In contrast, almost half (48%) of the stations Renfe serve receive less than 20 of their trains each day – and 11% are served by just two trains daily, one in each direction. For specifically Renfe trains, the busiest station is Madrid’s Atocha, with over a thousand daily from the Cercanías station alone, a total of 1290 when combined with the neighbouring AV terminus. Commerciality (using factors from the “Renfe Commerciality” table in the previous essay, “Disassembling Trenes“) is predictably skewed toward AV-specific stations, especially those with no (OSP) Avant service. At the opposite extreme, just over eight hundred stations attained a commerciality of 0%, representing 54% of the stations served by Renfe. 88% of all the stations served by Renfe are served only by state-supported OSP products: Just 12% of Renfe-served stations have some pretence of commercial activity, with only 2% of Renfe-served stations visited by more than 20 non-OSP trains each day. The overwhelming majority of Spain’s passenger railway stations are served because the state demands it.

The map below summarises the overall geographic pattern of service provision by station, each circle representing one station, with the area of the circle in proportion to the number of daily trains (both directions totalled). The core of the Canarias have been inset into the bottom-right corner of the map, all the (tram) stations on Tenerife. The islands cropped off the map have no passenger railways. The overall pattern is characterised by Spain’s larger cities and conurbations, which visually dominate. However there are subtle differences to observe: For example, the tapering of service frequency with distance away from the city centre is gradual in Barcelona, Valencia, and to a degree Sevilla and Bilbao-Donostia (San Sebastián), but for Madrid the transition is much sharper: For all the prior commentary highlighting the large proportion of trains crossing the community boundaries within “Castilla”, perhaps this proportion is not yet high enough, and the existence of administrative boundaries is somehow inhibiting schedules. Societal evidence from Toledo suggests so – and while Toledo has a broadly comparable relation to Madrid as Girona to Barcelona, with somewhat similar populations, Toledo is served by just a third the number of trains of Girona. There are also substantial differences in the distribution of minor stations (those with fewest trains), which tend to be closer together in the north of Spain than in the south. That pattern does not necessarily reflect differences in population density, and appears more closely aligned to variations in average operating speed (a pattern described in Is Alta Velocidad Fast?) – although it is unclear what constitutes cause and what constitutes effect: Do larger gaps between stations along a route allow the trains serving those station to operate faster overall, or do slow trains stop more often because the deceleration time penalty of stopping is less for a slow train?

Stations by Train Service
Stations by Train Service, where each circle represents a station and the circle’s area is in proportion to the number of trains serving the station (base geography – provincial boundaries in white, railway lines in grey – CC-BY 4.0 via Instituto Geográfico Nacional de España and ADIF)

Underneath most regional Autonomous Communities lay a few large provinces, and below them the standard unit of local administrative geography in Spain is the municipality. Municipalities specifically reflect societal – especially historic and cultural – perceptions of locality, with their size and character ranging from tiny villages to large cities. The older parts of Spain (especially Castilla y León) tend to contain a greater density of municipalities than the newer south, presumably reflecting historic differences in the structure of land ownership (specifically minifundio in the north and latifundio in the south). As discussed later, the Autonomous Community of Murcia has a particularly low density of rural municipalities across its region, which can skew comparisons. Municipalities remain important in the legislative structure of Spain, including local public transport, where traditionally municipal mayors controlled services wholly within their municipality, while those between municipalities defaulted to higher tiers of government. Municipal geography is not applicable to longer-distance travel, for which station catchment tends to exceed the immediate locality the station is in – an alternative analysis of this (called Hinterland Connectivity) will be presented in the next essay, “Understanding Obligación“. Municipal boundaries normally include any station that bears the municipality’s name, although modern AV parkway (“camp”) stations can be exceptions – for example, Figueres-Vilafant is in the second municipality, but primarily serves the first. However, generally municipal boundaries both reflect local travel and provide a basis for association – that a given locality has (or not) a railway station and service – which can have important societal and political connotations beyond mere transport need. In subsequent analysis the observed service network has been arranged not as links between stations, but as links between municipalities. Each train has been counted once per municipality, regardless of how many stations it serves within each. People have then been ascribed to passenger railway services using the municipal Padrón (census registry), specifically data from the start of 2017, the most recent non-provisional year. Initial analysis describes only people:

  1. People are the focus of “democratic” expectation, even if Modern Spain’s democratic model cannot properly mirror the interactions of its people, as discussed in the first essay, “Saving Ferroviarias“.
  2. People are de facto the most widely agree notion of equality within a society, and thus the most universal basis for understanding political counter-balances, even if the Orwellian reality is that the people of Spain are not equal.
  3. People are what board passenger trains, and in almost all cases resident populations are the prime determinant of passenger transport markets, a metric potentially nuanced by further factors such as wealth, age and car availability.
  4. The services and facilities people need, and the economic and cultural activity people engage in, also tend to cluster around groups of people, and thus the connectivity of one geographic group of people to other groups provides a basic measure of the connectivity of individual people to the facilities and activities they need. Only in rather specific cases, such as airports built outside the boundaries of the city they serve, or holiday resorts with few permanent residents, does this rationale fundamentally fail.

Continue reading “Deconstructing Estaciones”

Turning the Health World Upside Down

There’s a growing acceptance of the links between health, wealth and wider society. Not just the impact of wealth inequalities on measures like life expectancy. But the importance of fixing the underlying social causes of medical problems, rather than just administering the medicine and wondering why the patient doesn’t get better.

It’s convenient to frame this as a Third World problem. And while it is, it’s also a problem within and between developed countries. For example, people from one area of Glasgow (in Scotland) live a decade longer than people residing in another area of the same city, in spite of (theoretically) having access to precisely the same medical expertise.

A most basic analysis of Great Britain (and much of the developed world) reveals an organizational chasm, which most people are not prepared to cross: For example, medical services and social care provision are completely different activities – separate funding, differing structures, responsibilities, professional bodies. Even though individual “patients” shift seamlessly between them. It’s an organisational situation made worse by the difficulty both groups seem to have integrating with anything – in my experience (largely failing to integrate public transport into health and social services), a combination of:

  • The intrinsic (internal) complexity of the service itself, which leaves little mental capacity for also dealing with “external” factors.
  • The tendency to be staffed by those with people-orientated skills, who are often less able to think strategically or in abstract.
  • The dominance of the government, with a natural tendency towards bureaucracy and politicized (irrational) decision making.

Complexity is the biggest problem, because it keeps getting worse: More (medical) conditions and treatments to know about, higher public expectations, greater interdependence between different cultures and areas of the world. Inability to manage growing complexity ultimately threatens modern civilization – it will probably be one of the defining problems of the current age. So adding even further complexity in the form of understanding about “fringe issues” is far from straightforward.

Beyond these practicalities lurk difficult moral debates – literally, buying life. Public policy doesn’t come much harder than this.

Into this arena steps Nigel Crisp. Former holder of various senior positions within health administration, now a member of the UK‘s House of Lords. Lord Crisp’s ideas try to “kill 2 birds with one stone”: For the developed world to adopt some of the simple, but more holistic approaches to health/society found in the less developed world, rather than merely exporting the less-than-perfect approach developed in countries like Britain.

To understand Crisp’s argument requires several sacred cows to be scarified: That institutions like the National Health Service (which in Britain is increasingly synonymous with nationhood, and so beyond criticism) are not perfect. That places like Africa aren’t solely populated by people that “need aid” (the unfortunate, but popular image that emerged from the famines of the 1980s). That the highest level of training and attainment isn’t necessarily the optimum solution (counter to most capitalist cultures). If you’ve managed to get that far, the political and organisational changes implied are still genuinely revolutionary: To paraphrase one commenter, “government simply doesn’t turn itself upside down”.

While it is very easy to decry Nigel Crisp’s approach as idealistic, even naively impractical, he is addressing a serious contemporary problem. And his broad thinking exposes a lot of unpleasant truths. This article is based on a lecture Crisp gave to a (mostly) medical audience at the University of Edinburgh. And the response of his audience. The lecture was based on his book, Turning the World Upside Down: the search for global health in the 21st Century (which I have not read). Continue reading “Turning the Health World Upside Down”

Virtual Worlds, Serious Work, and Collaboration for DKP

Byron Reeves (Stanford University) spoke to the Media X conference about how experiences from virtual worlds could be transferred into working life. This article summarises his talk, and contains personal analysis of the potential for using DKP (Dragon Kill Point) systems to measure contribution to collaborative activity.

Playing Puzzle Pirates at Work

Take a dull job such as that of a call centre worker. Now take the online game, Puzzle Pirates. Strip out the puzzling part, and add in the dull job. What do we get?

  • Metrics about the performance of yourself and others – highly detailed feedback loops that are largely missing from most regular jobs.
  • Through these metrics, a way to identify issues with team performance, giving…
  • An easy way to notice and resolve human issues within the team.
  • A way to make money that relates directly to performance within the game.

Why Might This Work?

Some possible reasons:

  1. Worlds are popular. People like playing them! Reeves was unusual among academics in acknowledging the huge popularity of teen-orientated worlds like Habbo Hotel, and down-playing relatively unpopular titles like Second Life.
  2. A new “gamer generation” is emerging. Even without the online component of games, these features aspects of competition, failure, risk and feedback. It is reasonable that this generation will come to expect to work using collaboration tools with features that match.
  3. Well understood recipe for creating a great game.
  4. Emotional involvement. Byron Reeves showed how heart rate increased by the value of 10 [presumably beats per minute] when playing with another human-controlled avatar, rather than a computer-controlled agent. This implies a performance gain when human collaboration is present.
  5. Technology: Worlds are easier to build, and “better”.
  6. Painful long-standing problems in enterprises might be solved. For example, large proportions of workers are “out of the office”; have limited employee feedback; do fundamentally dull work; and require emotional contact with other humans to innovate.

Dragon Kill Points as a Measure of Contribution

Dragon Kill Points (DKP) might be used as a way to value contributions to collaborative environments such as wikis. DKP is a way of resolving how to share finite loot among a group – originally from killing dragons in Everquest, now from any encounter that requires a group to complete.

The application of DKP to other collaborative environments was not fully developed. So let me try.

Loot is the primary reward from most collaborative activity in an game such as World of Warcraft (probably where DKP is currently most used). At the most advanced stages of the game a hostile creature might require 10 or 25 people to kill, yet only yield 2 or 3 items of loot. An equitable method of distributing loot is critical to long-term motivation of players.

Pragmatic random distribution of loot is one method: Players those avatars would benefit from the loot are invited to roll a virtual 100-sided dice, and the highest score wins the loot. The process is not entirely without social mediation. For example, one player might pass (forfeit their roll) to allow another to win loot that the first player knows they particularly need. Likewise rolling on loot that the rest of the group perceive the player doesn’t really need is likely to cause a social backlash. Pragmatic random distribution of loot is easy to administer and well suited to small groups comprising players that might not regularly play together.

However, pragmatic random distribution does not account for long-term contributions: One player might attend one session, gain a rare loot, and stop contributing to further sessions. Meanwhile another player might attend multiple sessions and gain nothing.

DKP is an alternative method. It creates a tally of points based on contribution to group activity. Loot is then distributed based on the volume of points a player has banked (and is prepared to spend) from earlier contributions. DKP is generally used where:

  • Groups are composed of many people, typically 10 or more.
  • Groups are formed out of a limited set of people that often play together.
  • A low volume of loot is generated relative to the time commitment required to generate it.
  • Groups routinely split play sessions between activities which generate different amounts of loot. For example, learning/practice (“progression”) vs gathering loot from already familiar activities (“farming”).

If DKP sounds simple, it isn’t: A DKP system is a complex construct, with different ways to measure contribution and balance the flow of loot to players. Agreeing that balance is a highly social activity, and failure to get the balance right can break-up long-established groups.

Group stress (“drama”) caused by the requirement for a complex DKP system may be one of the reasons for the growing importance of tokens in World of Warcraft. Group activity yields tokens, rather than loot. The tokens can still be traded for loot within the game. However tokenization removes some of the requirement for groups to balance the value of different items of loot.

DKP as a Currency

Edward Castronova and Joshua Fairfield have already mused on some of the economic aspects of DKP. But there are some interesting tangents that have not obviously been explored.

DKP is a meta-currency where the value of the currency is based on the values players place on one another’s contribution. Oddly this makes DKP far more like a modern physical-world currency than the formal in-game currencies created and balanced by game designers. Most modern currencies are valued on nothing more than trust – even if most users of currency never realise.

DKP systems effectively create many different currencies, each balanced and exchanged between a tiny number of people. The economy this creates is so devoid of complex economic mechanisms, and so obviously balanced by social interaction, that it might be mistaken for barter; but it isn’t.

Applying DKP Elsewhere

The value of DKP is in the ability of a group to allocate their own collective set of values to the results of collaborative activity. The value of the currency is a reflection on the group itself.

Applying DKP to a wiki-type collaborative environment is problematic: Contributions are not equally balanced within the group – the classic 1%-9%-90% pattern, where most contribute nothing, and few contribute a lot. While DKP might seem an ideal way to resolve this imbalance, and give the 1% the credit they deserve, we must remember that the DKP system’s balance is a social construct: The system will naturally be primarily designed by the 1%, and so will be biased to reflect their needs or perceptions of value. So DKP resolves nothing.

Administering DKP tends to be complex and time-consuming. DKP is not just technically complex (which might be eased through better software tools): Its value-system is an ever-changing function of the group itself.

That all assumes DKP will always be established through negotiation between those involved. We could theorise that eventually standard approaches will develop, that later generations of players will come to recognise and accept a standard approach. But standardisation would merely create another traditional currency system. Such a currency would be less arbitrary than some formal in-game currencies, since its value would genuinely reflect the work of players, and would not have to be carefully balanced by those designing the world.

It is not clear that DKP can be applied to any collaborative situation. However it may form a currency that better reflects players’ effort than one designed by those operating the virtual world. Consequently it does have a lot of potential for further development.

Michael Malone on The Protean Corporation

Michael S. Malone is perhaps best known for his work defining the “Virtual Corporation” in the early 1990s. At Stanford’s Media X conference he proposed the next iteration of organisational development – the Protean Corporation. The topic forms the basis of Malone’s next book. This article is based on his talk.


The total number of consumers is growing exponentially. Wireless broadband covers an ever-increasing amount of territory. The US may become the first truly “entrepreneurial society”, with skill-based work that never last more than a few years, where people never plan to do the same work forever: A mixture of creativity and volatility. The increasing size of the customer base will lead to larger organisations. Simultaneously, competitive threats can appear from anywhere, particularly in fast-moving technology sectors.

The result is two contradictory forces:

  1. Centrifugal: Technology enables workers to be spread out.
  2. Centripetal: Humans still need a sense of legacy and wider purpose; and are inherently social creatures. The “fatal flaw” of the Virtual Corporation was that once everything has been pulled apart, nothing is left.

Throughout history, from pre-corporations (such as early modern trading companies and guilds), through Taylorism to the virtual/adaptive/wired organisations, two trends can be seen:

  • Increased autonomy of employees, with greater communication between them.
  • Reduced management control.

The Protean Corporation

The paradox is simple: How to build an enterprise that lasts, while still being flexible and adaptive?

Michael used the Quantum atom to demonstrate the shape of things to come: An organic form, in constant flux, which retains its core. The design attempts to recreate the structures within Hewlett Packard, where a group of long-term employees remained at the core, with the traditional enterprise formed around them.

The Protean Corporation has three parts:

  1. Core
  2. Inner Ring
  3. Cloud

The Core are the permanent staff – people that have been with the business since as long as anyone can remember – “the immortals”. Their role is to protect the culture of the company, which they do somewhat informally. For example, they might be highly regarded by other employees for their experience or ability to get a result out of the organisation. Largely unseen, they are the people that make the organisation run smoothly. They may not be immediately apparent to the senior management, and as such they need to be protected from a new CEO – they are likely to be accidentally culled along with the rest of the workforce.

The Inner Ring are the traditional full time employees. They manage and operate the business. Their job is to recruit the Cloud.

The Cloud are 90% of the organisation. Their employment might last a matter of hours or days. They might work remotely, never having met their employer. The cloud is so transient that they might make errors before they have time to learn. It is critical that the Core is able to watch over the Cloud, and maintain the company’s culture and standards.

The role of the company’s board is merely to adjudicate and not to manage – to act like the company’s Supreme Court.

Competence Aggregator

The Protean Corporation will be fixed in perpetual motion. The most important role in such a corporation will be “competence aggregators”. These people pull individuals together for specific projects, much like creating start-up companies within the corporation. Competence Aggregators exist within the Cloud, but are still governed by the Core. The Competence Aggregators will be the new superstars of the economy.

Private and Public

The shape-shifting Protean Corporation can exist in both public and private sectors of the economy. To achieve this is the zenith of the concept.

A key problem remains: There is no way to accurately value the Protean Corporation. Its assets are intangible, and not reflected in conventional accountancy-based corporate market valuation. It is a similar issue to that which limits social entrepreneurs – there is no way to measure the performance of non-profit organisations. The ultimate limitation on the whole process is the lack of a market for intellectual capital.

The Protean Corporation in Practice

Wikipedia was cited as an example of a protean-like corporation.

I personally recognise the existence of both the Core, Inner Ring and Cloud from the Open Directory Project. The Core was part-formalised as “Editalls” – floating editors that had no fixed role, but which were always trusted and experienced veterans of the project. The Inner Ring consisted of “Meta” editors (and later Admins), who appointed everyone else, and took the formal leadership role. However, neither group entirely matched these roles. The Cloud, the regular editors, were just as described by Malone: The majority of the organisation, often with very limited ties to the project, many moving on after a short period of work.

The Core is also commonly found within British local government: In most long-established authorities there are a handful of people who both provide a sense of stability, and can simply get things done that nobody else can (usually through some combination of contacts and experience). Without these people I suspect that much of local government would be rendered totally dysfunctional (as close to collapse as a public body can become).

It was noted that Intel had originally shunned the concept of the Virtual Organisation, yet had subsequently developed into one “by walking backwards into it”. For example, only 20% of its “employees” are now traditional permanent staff. Far more contribute “virtually” or as suppliers. Yet all need access to company data and systems, so have to be trusted. A fifth have never met their boss face-to-face, and half of those never expect to: Such an organisation is logically already facing the challenges that the Protean Corporation seeks to answer.

Michael S. Malone’s book is called The Future Arrived Yesterday: The Rise of the Protean Corporation and What It Means for You.