The country I wish for 

“First of all, [a meritocratic society] takes pride in the fact that people can move forward in life on the basis of their natural talents. Secondly, it seeks to ensure equal opportunities by providing education for everyone. Thirdly, it prohibits discrimination on the basis of race, sex and other irrelevant characteristics. Fourthly, it rewards jobs through open competition rather than cronyism and nepotism.” This is how Adrian Wooldridge, political columnist for The Economist, writes in his book The Aristocracy of Talent: How Meritocracy Made the Modern World (2021), capturing the essence of what underpins the prosperity of liberal democracies.

Prosperity is certainly not just about creating wealth; rather, it is about creating value and well-being, which emerge in contexts where people are given the opportunity to be and become what they wish to be or, from an anthropological perspective, what they are. Where there is no room for desire, there is no room for life: Aristotle himself argued that a person seeking self-fulfilment brings into actuality the potential they possess. The highest level of desire manifests itself in vocation, that is, the response to what calls upon our entire life. It can be recognized because it does not fade away, does not allow itself to be stopped by obstacles, does not turn sacrifices into mere renunciations, helps us make coherent choices, and makes our hearts beat with joy.

And yet, pursuing one’s vocation is almost never easy. It may be more or less enabled by the socio-economic and geographical context into which one is born, and it is shaped by the idea of society that a country seeks to build. Democracy certainly does not guarantee the outcome, but we can be fairly certain that under totalitarian regimes, the chances are even slimmer. Journalist Anna Politkovskaya wrote about the young people from the vast outskirts of the Russian empire, destined to become serfs of the army, as well as cannon fodder. She also wrote about young people who wanted to attend university but lacked either the resources needed to grease the right palms or the privileged connections required to secure a place as a student, let alone later as a professional. In short, it was a corrupt system in which the idea of society was not—and still is not—to make room for the natural talents of the population as a whole.

That said, the wave of populism sweeping across the Western world tells us that something has gone wrong with democratic governance. This has a great deal to do with the progressive polarization of privileges on the one hand and the restriction of access to opportunities for everyone on the other. This divide risks becoming even wider as a result of demographic trends and the technological power of Generative AI. If this is the broader context, the situation in Italy has been far from encouraging for decades, to the point that the so-called brain drain has now become a structural phenomenon. But more than the data, it is personal stories that strike at the heart of the pride one can feel—or lose—for one’s country.

The Meritocracy Forum’s mailbox often receives bitter reflections. One recent message came from a father who wrote about a son with a law degree who had already qualified to practice, but who, after working for a period at a Milan law firm on a freelance VAT arrangement for €1,000 a month (!), “decided to try to make it on his own (so to speak, with the help of his family).” He also wrote about a second son, an aerospace engineer, who, after a couple of disappointing experiences, moved abroad, where he was finally given a position with an appropriate level of responsibility. “So the Italian education system trained him, the family paid for his education and supported him, and now [Italy] is helping to boost someone else’s competitiveness.”

Equally revealing of an entrenched culture of misconduct is the recent autobiographical book Premiare il merito? (2026) by Leonardo Lucarini, a retired surgeon who exposes the systematic betrayal of the value of merit by a system dominated by familism, favoritism, personal connections, affiliations and allegiances. And then there are women, who are disadvantaged by motherhood and are often employed in less lucrative sectors, facing pay gaps that the pay transparency directive, as implemented through Legislative Decree No. 96/2026, is unlikely to remedy effectively and who are consequently destined for inadequate pensions.

In short, it is difficult to feel proud of a country that asks you to survive rather than flourish, depriving you of the vital force of desire.