Unpacking the logic behind the magic in the use of AI for anticorruption screening (re Pastor Sanz, 2022)

‘Network of public contracts, contracting bodies, and awarded companies in Spain’ in 2020 and 2021; Pastor Sanz (2022: 7).

[Note: please don’t be put off by talk of complex algorithms. The main point is precisely that we need to look past them in this area of digital governance!].

I have read a new working paper on the use of ‘blackbox algorithms’ as anti-corruption screens for public procurement: I Pastor Sanz, ‘A New Approach to Detecting Irregular Behavior in the Network Structure of Public Contracts’. The paper aims to detect corrupt practices by exploiting network relationships among participants in public contracts. The paper implements complex algorithms to support graphical analysis to cluster public contracts with the aim of identifying those at risk of corruption. The approach in the paper would create ‘risk maps’ to eg prioritise the investigation of suspected corrupt awards. Such an approach could be seen to provide a magical* solution to the very complex issue of corruption monitoring in procurement (or more generally). In this post, I unpack what is behind that magic and critically assess whether it follows a sound logic on the workings of corruption (which it really doesn’t).

The paper is technically very complex and I have to admit to not entirely understanding the specific workings of the graphical analysis algorithms. I think most people with an interest in anti-corruption in procurement would also struggle to understand it and, even data scientists (and even the author of the paper) would be unable to fully understand the reasons why any given contract award is flagged as potentially corrupt by the model, or to provide an adequate explanation. In itself, this lack of explainability would be a major obstacle to the deployment of the solution ‘in the real world’ [for discussion, see A Sanchez-Graells, ‘Procurement Corruption and Artificial Intelligence: Between the Potential of Enabling Data Architectures and the Constraints of Due Process Requirements’]. However, perhaps more interestingly, the difficulty in understanding the model creates a significant additional governance risk in itself: intellectual debt.

Intellectual debt as a fast-growing governance risk

Indeed, this type of very complex algorithmic approach creates a significant risk of intellectual debt. As clearly put by Zittrain,

‘Machine learning at its best gives us answers as succinct and impenetrable as those of a Magic 8-Ball – except they appear to be consistently right. When we accept those answers without independently trying to ascertain the theories that might animate them, we accrue intellectual debt’ (J Zittrain, ‘Intellectual Debt. With Great Power Comes Great Ignorance’, 178).

The point here is that, before relying on AI, we need to understand its workings and, more importantly, the underlying theories. In the case of AI for anti-corruption purposes, we should pay particular attention to the way corruption is conceptualised and embedded in the model.

Feeding the machine a corruption logic

In the paper, the model is developed and trained to translate ‘all the public contracts awarded in Spain in the years 2020 and 2021 into a bi-dimensional map with five different groups. These groups summarize the position of a contract in the network and their interactions with their awarded companies and public contracting bodies’ (at 14). Then, the crucial point from the perspective of a corruption logic comes in:

‘To determine the different profiles of the created groups in terms of corruption risk, news about bad practices or corruption scandals in public procurements in the same period (years 2020 and 2021) has been used as a reference. The news collection process has been manual and the 10 most important general information newspapers in Spain in terms of readership have been analyzed. Collected news about irregularities in public procurements identifies suspicions or ongoing investigations about one public contracting body and an awarded company. In these cases, all the contracts granted by the Public Administration to this company have been identified in the sample and flagged as “doubtful” contracts. The rest of the contracts, which means contracts without apparent irregularities or not uncovered yet, have been flagged as “normal” contracts. A total of 765 contracts are categorized as “doubtful”, representing 0.36% of total contracts … contracts belong to only 25 different companies, where only one company collects 508 granted contracts classified as “doubtful”’ (at 14-15, references omitted and emphasis added).

A sound logic?

This reflects a rather cavalier attitude to the absence of reliable corruption data and to difficulties in labelling datasets for that purpose [for discussion, again, see A Sanchez-Graells, ‘Procurement Corruption and Artificial Intelligence: Between the Potential of Enabling Data Architectures and the Constraints of Due Process Requirements’].

Beyond the data issue, this approach also reflects a questionable understanding of the mechanics of corruption. Even without getting into much detail, or trying to be exhaustive, it seems that this is a rather peculiar approach, perhaps rooted in a rather simplistic intuition of how tenderer-led corruption (such as bribery) could work. It seems to me to have some rather obvious shortcomings.

First, it treats companies as either entirely corrupt or not at all corrupt, whereas it seems plausible that corrupt companies will not necessarily always engage in corruption for every contract. Second, it treats the public buyer as a passive agent that ‘suffers’ the corruption and never seeks, or facilitates it. There does not seem to be any consideration to the idea that a public buyer that has been embroiled in a scandal with a given tenderer may also be suspicious of corruption more generally, and worth looking into. Third, in both cases, it treats institutions as monolithic. This is particularly problematic when it comes to treating the ‘public administration’ as a single entity, specially in an institutional context of multi-level territorial governance such as the Spanish one—with eg potentially very different propensities to corruption in different regions and in relation to different (local/not) players. Fourth, the approach is also monolithic in failing to incorporate the fact that there can be corrupt individuals within organisations and that the participation of different decision-makers in different procedures can be relevant. This can be particularly important in big, diversified companies, where a corrupt branch may have no influence on the behaviour of other branches (or even keep its corruption secret from other branches for rather obvious reasons).

If AI had been used to establish this approach to the identification of potentially corrupt procurement awards, the discussion would need to go on to scrutinise how a model was constructed to generate this hypothesis or insight (or the related dataset). However, in the paper, this approach to ‘conceptualising’ or ‘labelling corruption’ is not supported by machine learning at all, but rather depends on the manual analysis and categorisation of news pieces that are unavoidably unreliable in terms of establishing the existence of corruption, as eg the generation of the ‘scandals’ and the related news reporting is itself affected by a myriad of issues. At best, the approach would be suitable to identify the types of contracts or procurement agents most likely to attract corruption allegations and to have those reported in the media. And perhaps not even that. Of course, the labelling of ‘normal’ for contracts not having attracted such media attention is also problematic.

Final thoughts

All of this shows that we need to scrutinise ‘new approaches’ to the algorithmic detection of corruption (or any other function in procurement governance and more generally) rather carefully. This not only relates to the algorithms and the related assumptions of how socio-technical processes work, but also about the broader institutional and information setting in which they are developed (for related discussion, see here). Of course, this is in part a call for more collaboration between ‘technologists’ (such as data scientist or machine learning engineers) and domain experts. But it is also a call for all scholars and policy-makers to engage in critical assessment of logic or assumptions that can be buried in technical analysis or explanations and, as such, difficult to access. Only robust scrutiny of these issues can avoid incurring massive intellectual debt and, perhaps what could be worse, pinning our hopes of improved digital procurement governance on faulty tools.

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* The reference to magic in the title and the introduction relates to Zittrain’s Magic-8 ball metaphor, but also his reference to the earlier observation by Arthur C. Clarke that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

Flexibility, discretion and corruption in procurement: an unavoidable trade-off undermining digital oversight?

Magic; Stage Illusions and Scientific Diversions, Including Trick Photography (1897), written by Albert Allis Hopkins and Henry Ridgely Evan.

As the dust settles in the process of reform of UK public procurement rules, and while we await for draft legislation to be published (some time this year?), there is now a chance to further reflect on the likely effects of the deregulatory, flexibility- and discretion-based approach to be embedded in the new UK procurement system.

An issue that may not have been sufficiently highlighted, but which should be of concern, is the way in which increased flexibility and discretion will unavoidably carry higher corruption risks and reduce the effectiveness of potential anti-corruption tools, in particular those based on the implementation of digital technologies for procurement oversight [see A Sanchez-Graells, ‘Procurement Corruption and Artificial Intelligence: Between the Potential of Enabling Data Architectures and the Constraints of Due Process Requirements’ in S Williams-Elegbe & J Tillipman (eds), Routledge Handbook of Public Procurement Corruption (Routledge, forthcoming)].

This is an inescapable issue, for there is an unavoidable trade-off between flexibility, discretion and corruption (in procurement, and more generally). And this does not bode well for the future of UK procurement integrity if the experience during the pandemic is a good predictor.

The trade-off between flexibility, discretion and corruption underpins many features of procurement regulation, such as the traditional distrust of procedures involving negotiations or direct awards, which may however stifle procurement innovation and limit value for money [see eg F Decarolis et al, ‘Rules, Discretion, and Corruption in Procurement: Evidence from Italian Government Contracting’ (2021) NBER Working Paper 28209].

The trade-off also underpins many of the anti-corruption tools (eg red flags) that use discretionary elements in procurement practice as a potential proxy for corruption risk [see eg M Fazekas, L Cingolani and B Tóth, ‘Innovations in Objectively Measuring Corruption in Public Procurement’ in H K Anheier, M Haber and M A Kayser (eds) Governance Indicators: Approaches, Progress, Promise (OUP 2018) 154-180; or M Fazekas, S Nishchal and T Søreide, ‘Public procurement under and after emergencies’ in O Bandiera, E Bosio and G Spagnolo (eds), Procurement in Focus – Rules, Discretion, and Emergencies (CEPR Press 2022) 33-42].

Moreover, economists and political scientists have clearly stressed that one way of trying to strike an adequate balance between the exercise of discretion and corruption risks, without disproportionately deterring the exercise of judgement or fostering laziness or incompetence in procurement administration, is to increase oversight and monitoring, especially through auditing mechanisms based on open data (see eg Procurement in a crisis: how to mitigate the risk of corruption, collusion, abuse and incompetence).

The difficulty here is that the trade-off is inescapable and the more dimensions on which there is flexibility and discretion in a procurement system, the more difficult it will be to establish a ‘normalcy benchmark’ or ‘integrity benchmark’ from which deviations can trigger close inspection. Taking into account that there is a clear trend towards seeking to automate integrity checks on the basis of big data and machine learning techniques, this is a particularly crucial issue. In my view, there are two main sources of difficulties and limitations.

First, that discretion is impossible to code for [see S Bratus and A Shubina, Computerization, Discretion, Freedom (2015)]. This both means that discretionary decisions cannot be automated, and that it is impossible to embed compliance mechanisms (eg through the definition of clear pathways based on business process modelling within an e-procurement system, or even in blockchain and smart contract approaches: Neural blockchain technology for a new anticorruption token: towards a novel governance model) where there is the possibility of a ‘discretion override’.

The more points along the procurement process where discretion can be exercised (eg choice of procedure, design of procedure, award criteria including weakening of link to subject matter of the contract and inclusion of non(easily)measurable criteria eg on social value, displacement of advantage analysis beyond sphere of influence of contracting authority, etc) the more this difficulty matters.

Second, the more deviations there are between the new rulebook and the older one, the lower the value of existing (big) data (if any is available or useable) and of any indicators of corruption risk, as the regulatory confines of the exercise of discretion will not only have shifted, but perhaps even lead to a displacement of corruption-related exercise of discretion. For example, focusing on the choice of procedure, data on the extent to which direct awards could be a proxy for corruption may be useless in a new context where that type of corruption can morph into ‘custom-made’ design of a competitive flexible procedure—which will be both much more difficult to spot, analyse and prove.

Moreover, given the inherent fluidity of that procedure (even if there is to be a template, which is however not meant to be uncritically implemented), it will take time to build up enough data to be able to single out specific characteristics of the procedure (eg carrying out negotiations with different bidders in different ways, such as sequentially or in parallel, with or without time limits, the inclusion of any specific award criterion, etc) that can be indicative of corruption risk reliably. And that intelligence may not be forthcoming if, as feared, the level of complexity that comes with the exercise of discretion deters most contracting authorities from exercising it, which would mean that only a small number of complex procedures would be carried out every year, potentially hindering the accumulation of data capable of supporting big data analysis (or even meaningful econometrical treatment).

Overall, then, the issue I would highlight again is that there is an unavoidable trade-off between increasing flexibility and discretion, and corruption risk. And this trade-off will jeopardise automation and data-based approaches to procurement monitoring and oversight. This will be particularly relevant in the context of the design and implementation of the tools at the disposal of the proposed Procurement Review Unit (PRU). The Response to the public consultation on the Transforming Public Procurement green paper emphasised that

‘… the PRU’s main focus will be on addressing systemic or institutional breaches of the procurement regulations (i.e. breaches common across contracting authorities or regularly being made by a particular contracting authority). To deliver this service, it will primarily act on the basis of referrals from other government departments or data available from the new digital platform and will have the power to make formal recommendations aimed at addressing these unlawful breaches’ (para [48]).

Given the issues raised above, and in particular the difficulty or impossibility of automating the analysis of such data, as well as the limited indicative value and/or difficulty of creating reliable red flags in a context of heightened flexibility and discretion, quite how effective this will be is difficult to tell.

Moreover, given the floating uncertainty on what will be identified as suspicious of corruption (or legal infringement), it is also possible that the PRU (initially) operates on the basis of indicators or thresholds arbitrarily determined (much like the European Commission has traditionally arbitrarily set thresholds to consider procurement practices problematic under the Single Market Scorecard; see eg here). This could have a signalling effect that could influence decision-making at contracting authority level (eg to avoid triggering those red flags) in a way that pre-empts, limits or distorts the exercise of discretion—or that further displaces corruption-related exercise of discretion to areas not caught by the arbitrary indicators or thresholds, thus making it more difficult to detect.

Therefore, these issues can be particularly relevant in establishing both whether the balance between discretion and corruption risk is right under the new rulebook’s regulatory architecture and approach, as well as whether there are non-statutory determinants of the (lack of) exercise of discretion, other than the complexity and potential litigation and challenge risk already stressed in earlier analysis and reflections on the green paper.

Another ‘interesting’ area of development of UK procurement law and practice post-Brexit when/if it materialises.

Emerging technologies and anti-corruption efforts -- re Adam and Fazekas (2021)

(c) Sara Alaica/Flickr.

(c) Sara Alaica/Flickr.

I am working on a paper on digital technologies and corruption in procurement (or rather, trying to work on it in the midst of a challenging start of term). While researching this topic, I have come across this very interesting paper: Isabelle Adam and Mihály Fazekas, ‘Are emerging technologies helping win the fight against corruption? A review of the state of evidence’ (2021) Information Economics and Policy, available on pre-print here.

In their paper, Adam & Fazekas carry out a systematic review ‘of the academic and policy literature on the six most commonly discussed types of ICT-based anti-corruption interventions: (i) Digi- tal public services and e-government, (ii) Crowdsourcing platforms, (iii) Whistleblowing tools, (iv) Transparency portals and big data, (v) DLT and blockchain, and (vi) AI’ (at 2).

The analysis is clear and accessible and offers good insights on the positive and negative impacts that digital technologies can have for anti-corruption efforts, given that technology ‘is not per se a panacea against corruption, and it can also play into the hands of corrupt officials’ (ibid). The paper is well worth reading in full.

One of their insights I found particularly valuable is that ‘ICTs for anti-corruption operate against the background of given societal divides and power relations which are often supported by corruption. They risk further entrenching these unless their design and implementation take into account corruption and associated power imbalances. Hence, it is arguable that the success of ICT interventions against corruption hinges on their suitability for local contexts and needs, cultural backgrounds and technological experience‘ (at 1).

This directly links with Uta Kohl’s view that digital ‘technologies, whether the internet or blockchain, are tightly and on multiple levels interconnected with existing social orders and those interconnections decide upon the configurational latencies of the technological innovation within concrete settings: who uses the technological innovation in what configuration, for what purposes and against whom’ (see here for details).

To my mind, all of this stresses the need to operationalise a gatekeeping function tasked with the analysis of which digital technologies are adopted by the public sector and for what purpose, and this gatekeeping function needs not only consider downstream ethical implications in terms of impacts on citizens and service users, but also upstream implications concerning the way in which technologies will disrupt, support or entrench existing governance dynamics — and in particular those that the adoption of the technology is seeking to remedy.

Bringing this to procurement, these insights show that the public procurement function — to the extent that the adoption of these technologies is subjected to the regulatory framework of innovation procurement — is de facto playing (or failing to play) such gatekeeping function. More than in other settings, the procurement function needs to closely scrutinise the ‘use case’ of the digital technologies it is tasked with procuring. This is arguably a new regulatory function for procurement, and one that is not yet embedded in procurement theory, regulation or practice. But one that is inescapable nonetheless. So one that is worth thinking about.