I DON’T claim to be an expert in game theory but I’m relatively sure that when I was at the Institute of Directors’ annual debate the other night I witnessed something called ‘a non-zero-sum outcome’. And since all I’d realistically been expecting to witness at an event like that was the gradual depletion of my own soul, it seemed like it was probably worth mentioning.
It might perhaps have been unfair of me to have had such low expectations of the dinner-debate combo that bills itself as the agenda-setter for Jersey’s business calendar (and perhaps its political one too – but we’ll come to that later). It’s just that, having never been to one before, I had certain preconceptions about what it would be like.
I was expecting, for example, to find a room filled predominantly with white, middle-aged men. I was also expecting it to be gilded with a certain air of self-importance, a kind of ‘Jekyll Island meeting’ vibe, minus the cigar smoke and top hats.
And while all of those things turned out to be true (the place was basically like a casting call for an offshore, PG sequel to ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’), there was also a reassuringly progressive direction to the debate itself.
Its title (‘Is Jersey’s economic model sustainable?’) didn’t bode especially well, given its scope to become yet another talking shop for the protect-and-promote school of international finance, and yet what emerged was a seemingly genuine consensus on the value of Jersey’s digital economy.
The collective view appeared to be that this is not a sector that we need to choose to invest in instead of finance, but something that can be funded alongside it (the non-zero-sum outcome I was alluding to).
The reason that this was (to me, at least) such a heartening thing to hear is that it came as a kind of proof that the engine room of our economy has received the message that we’re going to need to shift into a new gear if we’re to survive these next couple of decades of the automation revolution.
Obviously, I’m aware that a lot is already being done by Jersey firms in fintech, regtech and all the rest of it, but the fact that there was such open acknowledgement of these sectors’ importance to our existing and future industries seemed to be a valuable benchmark.
The policy framework that was drafted by a talented and experienced team in government, coupled with the fibre network that was laid down across the Island, created a fertile environment for Digital Jersey to start doing its thing.
And it’s a thing – credit where it’s due – that they’ve done very well. They are marketing Jersey as a gigabyte-sized experimentation ground for each and every one of the enterprises that are out there, right now, designing the future.
But they’re also trying to shore up local employment, and get across the message that the so-called ‘digital economy’ isn’t some new industry into which we can diversify as we manage the decline of our finance offering. It’s the air we breathe – that phrase cropped up a fair amount during the evening’s discussions, just as it does in most of what is written and broadcast on this subject. Because it’s true.
And our acceptance of, and investment in, this truth is crucial. People are scared of automation, digital disruption, tech change, whatever you want to call it. And what scares them most is what Yuval Noah Harari has so eloquently described as ‘the prospect of their own irrelevance’.
So yes, let’s crack on with getting the skills, experience and vision into our population that will armour them against this all-too-real, fast-approaching future of finance-literate robots (a phrase, by the way, that could all too easily have been a table name at this particular event).
But the rubber stamp of industry bods and the good work of civil servants is one thing – what’s needed to make it become an economic reality, though, is the blessing of politicians.
Or is it?
Not judging by the mood of the 400 or so people in that room. The strong impression I got was that most of them seemed to view our politicians as bystanders to the action – mere handmaidens, whose main job is to stay out of the way and make sure there’s no red tape left lying around for people to trip up on.
And in a way, part of me couldn’t blame them – of the ministers, only Gorst showed up and showed out, taking centre stage with the panellists. Other States Members were either conspicuously absent, or else cowering behind a human shield of advisers, in case a tricky question came ricocheting into the audience.
None did, of course – not really. And I couldn’t help feeling that the reason for that wasn’t so much one of etiquette or diplomacy.
My sense was that it had something a little more to do with Harari’s point – the one about the people who refuse to adapt to (or even acknowledge) the future needing to get ready to face the prospect of their own irrelevance.
