In 2019, World Bank analyst Abebi Eke had a difficult assignment: decide whether to recommend that the World Bank, in line with its commitment to expanding financial inclusion to the world's poor, lend its support to a particular digital payments scheme. Eke was asked to investigate two of the most promising payment systems-UPI in India and M-Pesa in Kenya-and prepare a memo comparing the benefits and drawbacks of each. Eke had discovered that while successful digital payment systems often shared some aspects of their operating business models, their agent networks and even their marketing campaigns, their regulatory and corporate structures could be quite dissimilar. She also learned that digital payment services had flourished in some countries, both developed and developing, but not in others. Why? The World Bank's own research revealed that of the five countries that most successfully implemented mobile money-a form of digital payments-one was a low-income economy, one a lower-middle-income economy, and three were considered upper-middle-income economies, demonstrating there was no one route to achieving financial inclusion. To write her memo, Eke needed to deeply understand the drivers of and barriers to success in digital payments. The case presents students with a rich understanding of both digital payment systems, allowing students to compare and contrast them while assessing each one's likely success in another country. Case number 2173.0

Many people take identity for granted, confident that they can prove they are who they say they are by using a driver's license or other ID card. For many millions of people, this is not the case. They possess not only no driver's license, but also no birth certificate which could be used to gain a driver's license and prove they are who they claim to be. As a result, they can sometimes appear invisible to the state, unable to receive aid or participate in critical programs. Indeed, as Nandan Nilekani argues, "unless a person can identify himself or herself and have some sort of proof of existence, you can't even talk about him owning property." This case explores the development and implementation of Aadhaar, an ambitious biometric identity system implemented in India. The system requires every Indian citizen to undergo a fingerprint and retinal scan to create a massive central database that can uniquely identify every person in the country. Supporters say such an identity management system has enormous potential to facilitate government services, reduce corruption, and enable hundreds of millions of Indians to enter the formal economy. To its critics, Aadhaar represents either an estate project that consumes enormous resources that will never reach its potential, or worse, the core infrastructure for a surveillance state that can better monitor and track many things its citizens do.

Many people take identity for granted, confident that they can prove they are who they say they are by using a driver's license or other ID card. For many millions of people, this is not the case. They possess not only no driver's license, but also no birth certificate which could be used to gain a driver's license and prove they are who they claim to be. As a result, they can sometimes appear invisible to the state, unable to receive aid or participate in critical programs. Indeed, as Nandan Nilekani argues, "unless a person can identify himself or herself and have some sort of proof of existence, you can't even talk about him owning property." This case explores the development and implementation of Aadhaar, an ambitious biometric identity system implemented in India. The system requires every Indian citizen to undergo a fingerprint and retinal scan to create a massive central database that can uniquely identify every person in the country. Supporters say such an identity management system has enormous potential to facilitate government services, reduce corruption, and enable hundreds of millions of Indians to enter the formal economy. To its critics, Aadhaar represents either an estate project that consumes enormous resources that will never reach its potential, or worse, the core infrastructure for a surveillance state that can better monitor and track many things its citizens do.

In 2011, the UK founded a new government agency known as the "Government Digital Service" (or GDS). Facing significant budget challenges, several high profile IT failures, and growing demands to "modernize" government services, the government set a mission for GDS to champion a "digital culture" in government, ideally unleashing a wave of both cost savings and innovations. By 2012, GDS had identified billions of pounds of potential savings, centralized the government's web presence into a single domain (called GOV.UK), and received wide acclaim from technology commentators. However, the leaders of GDS felt there was significantly more work to be done--not only modernizing government services, but also convincing civil service to focus more on implementation, user needs, and digital services. This case provides an overview of GDS's work up to 2012, and considers the strategy and change management questions facing the agency as it seeks to expand. Case number 2106.0

In October 2015, two senior California officials: Marybel Batjer, Secretary for Government Operations, and Michael Wilkening, Undersecretary for the Health and Human Services Agency seized on an idea that had the potential to turn the state's long dysfunctional technology procurement process on its head. After years of planning, California was about to request bids for a new child welfare management system to replace a twenty-year-old technology that, as part of the country's largest child welfare program, was accessed by approximately 25,000 state and county employees, to serve millions of California's children. The request for bids called for a "waterfall" approach to software development, where all aspects of the project would follow a pre-ordained sequence and likely cost the state nearly half a billion dollars. Just weeks before the request was to be released Batjer and Wilkening met with former U.S. Chief Technology Officer Todd Park and members of a tech nonprofit, Code for America, who warned that both the waterfall approach and the large size of the project posed significant risks. First, they proposed an alternative "architecture" that would break up the "monolith" proposal into its component parts. Rather than build and replace one giant system with another, why not replace the system in parts-or in modules? Second, for each of these modules, teams of programmers and social workers could work together to build a prototype and iterate till the final product satisfied the needs of the state-in a process known as "agile" development. But could California's bureaucracy, with its stringent procurement rules pivot to a modular approach? And could Batjer and Wilkening convince state staff and county partners to experiment with agile development, a methodology never attempted in California government before? Case number 2101.0

Supplement to case KS1235. In October 2015, two senior California officials: Marybel Batjer, Secretary for Government Operations, and Michael Wilkening, Undersecretary for the Health and Human Services Agency seized on an idea that had the potential to turn the state's long dysfunctional technology procurement process on its head. After years of planning, California was about to request bids for a new child welfare management system to replace a twenty-year-old technology that, as part of the country's largest child welfare program, was accessed by approximately 25,000 state and county employees, to serve millions of California's children. The request for bids called for a "waterfall" approach to software development, where all aspects of the project would follow a pre-ordained sequence and likely cost the state nearly half a billion dollars. Just weeks before the request was to be released Batjer and Wilkening met with former U.S. Chief Technology Officer Todd Park and members of a tech nonprofit, Code for America, who warned that both the waterfall approach and the large size of the project posed significant risks. First, they proposed an alternative "architecture" that would break up the "monolith" proposal into its component parts. Rather than build and replace one giant system with another, why not replace the system in parts-or in modules? Second, for each of these modules, teams of programmers and social workers could work together to build a prototype and iterate till the final product satisfied the needs of the state-in a process known as "agile" development. But could California's bureaucracy, with its stringent procurement rules pivot to a modular approach? And could Batjer and Wilkening convince state staff and county partners to experiment with agile development, a methodology never attempted in California government before?

In 2014, three former Code for America fellows embarked on a one-year skunk works journey to use technology to improve the enrollment process for California's SNAP (food stamp) program, CalFresh, to increase the number of residents receiving benefits in San Francisco. The case describes a user-centered approach to identifying bottlenecks within the CalFresh enrollment process and the low cost, fast solution proposed-and built-by the group. The case asks students to consider the opportunities, challenges and risks created by information technology in the public sector and whether taking a user-centered approach to policy implementation can improve social service delivery.

An alliance can be broken or underperforming, yet too many companies fail to see that their partnerships are just drifting or not producing. Recognizing that an alliance is broken and taking steps to mend the various relationships are vital if a company is to realize its expected ROI. This author has sound advice for maximizing the return from the substantial investment in an alliance.