The figures are reassuring. They give the illusion of control, objectivity, and measurable progress. Dashboards, performance indicators, coverage rates, beneficiary volumes: over the years, digital inclusion has built up an impressive arsenal of statistics. And yet, on the ground, the gap remains. Persistent. Sometimes even worse.
Because figures, however necessary they may be, never tell the whole story.
They say nothing about the person who gives up before even pushing open the door of a support center, convinced that "it's not for them." They do not describe the silent humiliation of users who are expected to be independent in a system that is not. They do not appreciate the cognitive fatigue of a senior citizen, a social worker, or a public servant faced with interfaces designed without them in mind.
The article in brief
- Indicators are useful, but they do not capture the essence: the renunciation, shame, cognitive fatigue, and life trajectories behind each step.
- Confusing “training” with “inclusion” shifts responsibility onto individuals, when the problem often stems from an unstable, fragmented digital public sphere that has been designed without users in mind.
- Digital inclusion is about people and the long term: preserving dignity, rebuilding trust, and preventing the loss of rights—all of which are impacts that are invisible in the dashboards.
Training is not enough: inclusion also means making digital technology accessible
One of the major blind spots in digital inclusion policies lies in a persistent misconception: that training equals inclusion. Hours, courses, and certifications are counted. Boxes are ticked. But real access to rights remains fragile.
Training requires a stable, clear, and consistent environment. However, public digital services are often fragmented, changing, and contradictory. Asking citizens to become proficient in an unstable system amounts to shifting the responsibility for failure onto the individual. The figures then validate the action, while reality invalidates its impact.
Human support: the invisible lever of digital inclusion
No indicator can quantify the value of a human presence at the right moment. No chart can measure the trust that has been rebuilt, the renunciation that has been avoided, the dignity that has been preserved. And yet, that is where everything is at stake.
In practice, digital inclusion is never an isolated act. It is part of a social, health, and administrative trajectory that can sometimes be chaotic. It requires time, listening, and adjustment. These are all dimensions that are incompatible with short-term profit-making approaches.
The figures add up. Reality, however, remains elusive.
Digitization: why autonomy is becoming a necessity
Public policy makers like to invoke autonomy. But what kind of autonomy are we talking about? That of the user or that of the administration?
The figures celebrate the autonomous user when, in reality, they often reflect forced disintermediation. Counters are being removed, procedures are being digitized, and then funding is provided to deal with the damage caused. Therein lies the paradox: we create complexity, then measure the ability of the most vulnerable to survive it.
What the figures do not reveal is the human cost of this demand for autonomy.
Do you feel there is a gap between what you measure and what users experience? Write to us.
Overseas territories: the specificities of digital inclusion in the field
In overseas territories, the gap between national indicators and local realities is even more striking. The figures smooth over divisions, homogenize practices, and ignore structural constraints: access to services, mobility, energy insecurity, caregiver overload, and a lack of local engineering.
Thinking about digital inclusion from these territories requires us to reverse our perspective. To no longer start with tools, but with lives. To no longer measure only what is quantifiable, but what is right.
How to better assess the real impact of digital support
Saying that figures don't tell the whole story doesn't mean disqualifying them. It means giving them their rightful place: a tool to aid decision-making, not an end in itself. Digital inclusion cannot be achieved through indicators alone. It is built on balance, responsibility, and truth (just like MAÂT...).
What the field teaches us, often silently, is that the real impact is invisible: a successful initiative, a reactivated right, a person who dares to return. Nothing spectacular. But everything essential.
And as long as digital inclusion policies continue to confuse performance with fairness, the numbers will continue to rise. Meanwhile, exclusion will simply take on a different form.
