Dear friends, good day to you all!
There are certain words in Greek political life that seem doomed to recur constantly, regardless of governments or eras. “Change.” “Modernization.” “Reforms.” Words that promise a better tomorrow, but often become a permanent excuse for what wasn’t done yesterday.
From 2019 to the present, Kyriakos Mitsotakis has placed reforms at the center of his political narrative. In particular, the digitization of the state.
A state that is less bureaucratic, more efficient, and more friendly toward citizens and entrepreneurship. A state in which technology curbs arbitrariness, enhances transparency, and eliminates opportunities for under-the-table deals, big and small.
And it must be acknowledged that, to a significant degree, it has succeeded. Gov.gr has transformed the daily lives of millions of citizens. Certificates that used to require queues, signatures, and wasted man-hours are now issued via a mobile phone. The hassle has been reduced. Time has been saved. The state has become, in many respects, more functional.
Precisely for this reason, however, a reasonable question arises. If this is the right direction, why, seven years later, is it still being presented as a promise for the future?
Just a few days ago, at the Ministry of Digital Governance and Artificial Intelligence’s event marking the six-year anniversary of gov.gr, the prime minister spoke about the “State of 2030.” He once again described technology as a lever for transformation. Artificial intelligence as a tool for streamlining public procurement. New cost savings. Greater transparency. Better service.
In other words, he redefined the same strategic goal he has been describing since 2019. Here, however, lies the crux of the matter. The reforms are not disputed as to their validity. Almost everyone agrees that Greece needs a more modern, digital, and efficient state. They are judged by the speed, depth, and determination with which they are implemented.
In fact, reality has chosen to become particularly uncomfortable for the government’s narrative. Just as the next stages of the digital transformation were being presented, the urban planning scandal dominated the headlines. An alleged ring of bribery and graft involving real estate deals, the issuance of permits, and the processing of applications. Six arrests, dozens of individuals implicated, and allegations of “fees” ranging, depending on the case, from one thousand to thirty thousand euros.
This was followed by the resignation of the Secretary General for Spatial Planning and Urban Environment, Efthymios Bakogiannis. And a few days later, the resignation of the Secretary General of the Ministry of Culture, Giorgos Didaskalos.
The government, through Pavlos Marinakis, declares that “everything is out in the open” and that there is zero tolerance for any instance of corruption. And it is right to do so.
The goal, however, is not merely to identify and punish those who commit misconduct once it is uncovered. The goal is to build institutions and procedures that make such actions more difficult from the outset.
Because the essence of digitization is not limited to the electronic version of a document. It lies in the creation of control mechanisms, in the recording of every step of an administrative act, in the reduction of opaque discretionary powers, and in the strengthening of accountability.
No, technology does not eliminate corruption. No country in the world has achieved that. It can, however, limit it, expose it more easily, and narrow the spaces where it thrives. And that is precisely why reforms are more than just desirable.
They are necessary.
The question, however, remains: how many times can a government that has already been in power for seven years promise the same reforms as its agenda for the next day? At some point, citizens stop evaluating intentions and start judging results. They are no longer satisfied with a vision. They demand accountability.
Because the greatest pathology of the Greek state may not be merely bureaucracy, inefficiency, or excessive legislation. It is its long-standing ability to postpone necessary changes just a little further down the road—to the next four-year term, the next plan, the next horizon.
Reforms, especially in the age of artificial intelligence, cannot remain mere pre-election promises forever. Because at some point, the “click and it’s done” approach sounds like a “Mavrogialouros” promise, and the “will” is punished.