What it could look like

Maria's story

Maria sits at the kitchen table on a Tuesday in November. Her coffee is going cold.

She is sixty-seven and moved to Norrtälje three years ago to be closer to her daughter and grandchildren.

The local clinic closed eighteen months ago. Now she takes a forty-minute bus ride into town to see a doctor she has never met before, who has her file on a screen and nine minutes to spare. She misses the old clinic, the doctor who knew her, the short walk along the canal that used to take her there.

She has tried to complain. Filled in a form on the municipality's website. Nothing happened. Called and got an automated response. Mentioned it to her daughter, who said "yes mum, that's awful" and then changed the subject because the children needed attention.

Her granddaughter Emma showed her the democracy engine. "You don't need to write a long letter," Emma said. "Just write what you need. The way you'd say it to me."

Maria writes: "I miss our local clinic. The new one is too far, and I can't always manage the bus alone in winter."

She presses send and expects it to disappear into nothing, like everything else she has tried. But nothing disappears.

The democracy engine responds with a question.

The democracy engine asks
That sounds hard. Can you tell us a bit more? Is this about getting there physically, about having to book far in advance, or about not knowing the doctor you see?

Maria reads the question twice. Then she writes an answer that takes twelve minutes. About the winter and the ice. About having diabetes and needing regular check-ups. About feeling safe with whoever examines her.

The system reads it and asks again.

The democracy engine asks
You mention feeling safe. Do you mean continuity, seeing the same doctor, or something else?

No authority has ever asked Maria that. No form has ever given her room to answer. She sits still for a moment. Then she writes: "Both. But mostly continuity. A doctor who knows what I have been through."

She closes the laptop and does not think about it again that evening.

Before a day has passed, she receives an update from the system that there is new information about the process she is now part of. The navigation is simple, and she sees a map of the municipality of Norrtälje. It is clearly divided into areas with numbers showing how many have expressed the same need. She zooms in closer on her part of the municipality and sees that there are others with the same need in her area too.

The system has captured the underlying need, proximity to a healthcare clinic, from a range of personal stories. When the system has heard that someone can no longer drive, that someone wants to avoid the long journey, or that someone wants to see the same doctor every time, it has methodically identified the underlying, most critical need: the need for a clinic close by.

Maria feels both joy and hope that so many others have now been given the chance to speak up. She immediately thinks of her neighbour, who fell so badly on the ice last winter and complained about how far it had become to the clinic. Next time they meet, she will show him the app.

A few days later, she receives a message from the system: "As part of the ongoing inquiry into proximity to a clinic, we have received many comments regarding public transport in Norrtälje. Mainly about bus fares, distance to stops, and bus schedules. We have therefore started a parallel inquiry into public transport and would like to hear more about your own experience." Maria writes about the bus that stopped running past her street two years ago, and how far it feels in the winter cold to the nearest stop now.

Maria can follow her own need through every step. She sees her need placed in a queue while the question is opened up to more people in affected areas. Each day, she watches the number rise. The app shows her that the need will remain in the system for another four weeks, so that everyone who wants to respond has time. She thinks that is wise. It is not urgent, just important.

Six weeks after Maria sent her first sentence, she receives a message that the matter is to be raised at the upcoming municipal council meeting.

The day after the meeting, she receives a message in the app that, thanks to the great need, a feasibility study has now been initiated to find the best way to address it. She can also read that she will be kept informed throughout the process.

She mentions the app to a friend in her walking group. The friend replies: "Yes, I've also responded! I never would have thought that so many people would feel the same way as little old me."

Six months later, a plan has been decided. A local care point will open in the area two days a week while the question of a full clinic continues to be studied. The municipality is also adjusting bus schedules, improving snow clearing at the stops, and putting up new lighting at two crossings.

It is a new Tuesday morning and Maria sits at the kitchen table. Her hands close around her favourite mug of freshly brewed coffee, and she thinks about one thing. Someone asked her. Someone listened to the answer. And several hundred people found out they were not alone. That is quite something.