What Becomes Possible When People Help Shape Change
Lessons from a Vienna car-sharing model and what infrastructure projects can learn from it
To meet the challenges of our time, we need structural change. We have heard this statement, or some version of it, a thousand times. Put simply, on a large scale it means that we must transform key parts of our country if we do not want to fall behind. These include core sectors of the economy such as infrastructure, energy, mobility and housing. Their reach is so broad that change inevitably affects people's everyday lives, for example through construction work or restrictions on daily travel. Such change is therefore only possible through cooperation between government, business and the public.
Unfortunately, this rarely happens on equal terms. Put bluntly, the prevailing model often works like this: government gives the order, a company carries it out, and the public is expected to accept the result. That approach quickly reaches its limits today. People affected can organise more easily, scrutinise information in public and build political pressure. Anyone seeking broad acceptance therefore needs to involve them earlier and more seriously.
My argument is that giving citizens a different role can strengthen acceptance of change. Too often, the public is treated primarily as an obstacle and is only involved after the key decisions have already been made. This squanders opportunities for better solutions and broader support.
In an infrastructure context, change often means expansion or reconstruction. By their nature, such undertakings do not have exclusively positive effects; they can also have consequences for people and the environment. A simple example is a wind turbine: climate-friendly electricity generation has to be weighed against potential impacts on the landscape, local residents and nature. People have to make trade-offs. Although wind power enjoys broad support in Germany, that does not guarantee support for a particular site, let alone that it will be built.
Source: Fachagentur Wind und Solar
The gap between general support and actual implementation can also be seen in other major infrastructure projects. The Brenner Northern Access Line shows how differently a cross-border European project can progress in the countries involved. While construction on the Brenner Base Tunnel has been under way for years on the Austrian and Italian sides, the German access route is still in the planning stage. There, regional objections intersect with lengthy planning, approval and financing questions. Preliminary planning was completed in July 2026, creating the basis for parliamentary consideration. Further planning and approval steps are still required before construction can begin.
Sources: DB InfraGO on the status of German planning and BBT SE on construction progress in Austria and Italy
Similar conflicts arise in the expansion of electricity grids, public transport and housing. SuedLink, one of Germany's central transmission lines for carrying wind power to the south, had to be fundamentally redesigned following protests and political resistance. In 2015, underground cabling was given priority; the route was not fully approved until 2025 and is scheduled to enter service in 2028. In Salzburg, the planned S-Link regional light rail scheme was put to a public vote in 2024 after years of planning. A total of 53.3 percent voted against it, after which the planned version of the project was discontinued. The Swiss Chamoson-Chippis extra-high-voltage line took even longer: 36 years passed between the initial project idea in 1986 and commissioning in 2022, a period shaped by court proceedings and repeated revisions. The reasons for these delays differ. What the projects have in common, however, is that conflicts over local impacts and the distribution of benefits only became central political questions at a late stage.
Sources: Federal Network Agency on SuedLink, German Bundestag on the response to public protests, State of Salzburg on the S-Link vote, Swissgrid on Chamoson-Chippis
One might argue that such projects should be imposed 'from above'. Instead of spending years weighing different interests, the state should simply decide and build. Apart from the fact that such an approach would be highly problematic both democratically and politically, it would not resolve the underlying conflict. Even if individual projects could be delivered faster in this way, public acceptance of necessary change could decline further in the long term.
An alternative is to involve citizens early and in different ways. Public participation, however, is a broad term. It begins with clear information and consultation, can extend to joint decision-making, and may go as far as financial participation or shared ownership. These forms serve different purposes. Information creates transparency. Consultation gives those affected an opportunity to contribute their perspective and point out local consequences of a project. Joint decision-making gives them real influence over how the project develops. Financial participation and ownership go further: people bear part of the risk, receive part of the return, and often develop a stronger personal interest in the project's success. The more extensive the participation, the more the role of citizens can change, from people affected by a project into people who help shape it.
I want to show the effect that financial participation can have on people's behaviour through an example from my own experience.
Financial Participation in Car-Sharing
I was one of the co-founders of the Vienna car-sharing company ELOOP. The goal was simple: to provide green, convenient mobility for people in Vienna and the surrounding area. We implemented it with a fleet of hundreds of electric cars that users could hire spontaneously through an app and return to public parking spaces within the operating area.
After intensive preparation, the first cars took to the streets in 2019. The initial response from the public was largely positive. We had of course prepared for the negative reactions and problems that would come with running a car-sharing service. Even so, several things surprised us. Two stood out in particular:
First, the way people treated the vehicles. “Don't be gentle, it's a rental.” The phrase comes from the car-rental business and describes how customers can be particularly careless with hire cars, regardless of the customer group. We knew this behaviour would not be limited to conventional car rental. What we had not expected was the extent of the damage, dirt and vandalism. This was especially frustrating because electric cars were then not only more expensive to acquire than combustion-engine vehicles, but also more expensive to repair.
Second, electric cars themselves were far more politically charged at the time than they are today. In numerous emails and phone calls, people accused us of ruining Vienna's cityscape with our 'ugly' electric cars, claimed that the vehicles were far more harmful to the environment than any diesel car, and warned that the batteries could burst into flames at any time, could not be extinguished and therefore posed a serious safety risk in an urban environment.
How should we deal with this, and what could we do about it? We knew that we somehow had to involve local people more closely in the project and in the conversation around it. We considered many different ideas and ultimately chose by far the craziest: a globally unique, blockchain-based form of public participation.
At the heart of the concept was the idea that anyone could invest in the vehicle fleet with even a small amount and receive a share of the operating result generated by the car-sharing vehicles. The entire process was designed to be digital and almost as simple as placing an order in an online shop. At the same time, we wanted to create a place where participants could follow the fleet's development, communicate directly with us and exchange ideas with one another.
Technically, the participation model was implemented using so-called tokens. A fixed number of digital units, or tokens, was created on a blockchain for the vehicle fleet. Anyone who purchased tokens gained a claim to a corresponding share of the operating result of the tokenised fleet. The token was not a cryptocurrency used as a means of payment, but a digitally issued security.
The blockchain mattered to the model for two reasons. First, it allowed us to attach conditions to transactions and automate processes. This meant that large numbers of small investments could be managed efficiently and settled on a regular basis.
Second, the blockchain provided transparency and traceability. The billing data and transactions relevant to the participation model were documented and could not be altered retrospectively. Token holders also had access to live fleet data through a dashboard, including whether vehicles were currently in use and how their utilisation and financial performance were developing.
Tokens could be purchased on an online platform using conventional payment methods. We also set up a group chat for direct communication. It served as an information channel, a support forum and a place where token holders and prospective participants could share their experiences and suggestions with one another and with us.
I will spare readers the legal and tax work behind the project, which was considerably more complex than the technical implementation. I assume it would appeal only to connoisseurs.
Our form of public participation was integrated into the existing car-sharing model in 2020, ran for almost four years and attracted thousands of active participants.
Now for the most interesting part: what impact did it have?
Economically, the effects were extremely positive. A few months after the participation model was introduced, around five percent of our car-sharing customers were also token holders. This relatively small group accounted for roughly 25 percent of total rental revenue. Token holders therefore rented vehicles much more often and for longer periods than other customers.
A similar pattern emerged in the way the cars were treated. Before starting a trip, users could rate the condition and cleanliness of the vehicle in the app. We were able to analyse these ratings alongside rental, service and vehicle-condition data. The results clearly showed that vehicles were returned cleaner and generally treated better after trips by token holders. For example, we found less rubbish inside and far fewer signs that people had smoked in the cars.
For me personally, however, it was even more interesting to see how the participation model gradually changed the relationship between the company and its customers. The boundaries of the traditional service provider-customer relationship began to blur, and something emerged that we had not expected.
In the group chat, for example, token holders began reporting damage and dirt directly. At times they discussed these issues with the intensity of people talking about their own cars. New members were often introduced to the most important information by other participants rather than our staff, and the group frequently answered their questions itself. A kind of customer-led support system emerged. Participants also discussed how the car-sharing service could be improved. Instead of simply making demands of the company, they sometimes developed detailed proposals that took feasibility and commercial viability into account. They had a genuine interest in the company working well and were willing to make their own contribution.
In our model, the financial incentive and stronger connection to the community went hand in hand. Participants had a financial interest in the fleet's success and direct access to information, the company and the other participants. This combination created a sense of agency: people were no longer merely customers but became an active part of the project.
In my view, this reversal of perspective is the real essence and decisive advantage of public participation. A construction, infrastructure or mobility project no longer simply 'happens to' people. They can consciously help shape it. People who feel part of a project are more willing to take responsibility and weigh competing objectives. Participation does not eliminate conflict, but it can make difficult projects easier to deliver.
What Can Be Applied Elsewhere
Looking back, we cannot neatly separate which component made the decisive difference at ELOOP. Several factors probably worked together: the financial interest, transparency of the data, direct communication, and the fact that particularly engaged customers were more likely to participate. Even so, the experiment changed how I think about public participation. People no longer treated the vehicles and the company solely as someone else's service, but partly as a shared project. This does not mean that every infrastructure project should be tokenised or that every citizen must become an investor. The transferable lesson is simpler: people affected should be given influence early, be able to understand the local benefits and, where appropriate, have an opportunity to participate financially. Participation guarantees neither approval nor financial success. But it can turn passive stakeholders into active contributors and can even deepen people's understanding of democracy.
What Happened to the Car-Sharing Model
Despite the positive effects of the participation model, the Vienna car-sharing service was discontinued in 2024 and the company underwent restructuring. The main reasons were the sharp rise in costs after the pandemic, particularly leasing rates, combined with the already thin margins in car-sharing. We could not pass these cost increases on to users to the extent required. As a result, profitable operations were no longer realistic, at least in the medium term.