Our reality as described by the director of the Bank of Italy

A well executed and well explained economic and social study aimed at developing awareness and culture (including corporate culture). A condition to be attained and then safeguarded, as well as fostered through good reading. Such is the essence of “Assicurare la ripresa” (“How to guarantee the recovery”), a contribution by Luigi Federico Signorini, CEO of the Bank of Italy and president of IVASS, the Italian Insurance Supervisory Authority, recently published by the Bank and offering a significantly valuable overview of Italy’s current economic situation and prospects.

Signorini does not mince words and his piece is extremely clear. He immediately starts, as an economist would, with a few figures, to describe the situation; he then relates these figures (obtained from real life, not through theoretical equations), to the reality experienced by companies and individuals, which includes issues to be tackled and, of course, the circumstances generated by the COVID-19 pandemic. Concrete, rather than theoretical, economy then, which entails dealing with the raw material and the energy crises, as well as the expectations of those directly involved and the hopes of those others (pretty much everyone) who would like to see a different future. Hopes that, somehow, might actually be fulfilled, despite the many doubts raised, weighed up and properly contextualised by the author. The same is with risks – “Supporting families and companies in risk management activities“, we are told, “is one of the factors that can best contribute to the growth of social welfare and competitiveness in the economic system.”

Clarity, then, above all. To suitably differentiate between “forecasts” and actual “facts”, for instance, to properly distinguish suppositions from certainties. The article also includes an assertion that, far from undermining this, is rather further proof of the author’s earnestness: “Uncertainty around this growth scenario is very high.”

Hence, Signorini paints a crystal-clear picture of reality, a much needed and useful tool to further understand where we stand and the direction we might take. As said above, an excellent reading to develop one’s self-aware culture.

Assicurare la ripresa (“How to guarantee the recovery”)

Luigi Federico Signorini

Contribution to the Swiss Re webinar of 19 January 2022

A recently published handbook for the benefit of corporate social impact and corporate management

Learning, in order to do good with some cognizance. What is more, learning in order to better conciliate philanthropy with efficiency and effectiveness, and corporate social impact with the necessary processes and the need for profit. Learning, after all, not only to develop a good corporate culture but also to make it more dynamic and insightful. These are important milestones that can be achieved thanks to tools capable of providing accurate information, which we then need to be able to appropriately read and interpret, especially nowadays, in an era driven by a constant flow of news, by Big Data, speed and complexity.

This is why a careful reading (and study) of Data Science for Social Good. Philanthropy and Social Impact in a Complex World, a book curated by Massimo Lapucci (secretary general of the CRT Foundation) and Ciro Cattuto (professor in Computer Science at the University of Turin) is paramount. Possessing the tools to collect, sort, understand and interpret data actually means being much further along the path towards enhancing the relevance of organisations (and not just philanthropic ones) that affect the social systems in which they operate.

This book curated by Lapucci and Cattuto can be considered a handbook for the application of data science in those complex and sensitive spheres that have an impact on society. Data Science for Social Good examines how computer science, complex systems and computational social science can be applied to challenges such as humanitarian responses, public health and sustainable development. The book also provides an overview of the scientific approaches to social impact – how social needs are identified, interventions focused, impact measured – complemented by the perspectives of investors and philanthropists.

The introduction written by Lapucci is followed by a series of contributions on the value and meaning of data, some centring on specific examples such as the UN Global Pulse, globally acknowledged nowadays as a world-class facility on the employment of Big Data and artificial intelligence for the public good. The work then explores the ways in which data is gathered and analysed, issues and solutions to better join up these processes and, finally, the sector’s prospects in a world transformed by the COVID-19 pandemic.

Reading the material that Lapucci and Cattuto have collected is not always easy and straightforward, but it will certainly be useful to all those people involved in corporate activities that bear an impact on society. A book to be explored, therefore – and a good handbook that, with some others, should be kept at hand on one’s desk.

Data Science for Social Good. Philanthropy and Social Impact in a Complex World

Massimo Lapucci, Ciro Cattuto (curated by)

Springer, 2021

Words have extraordinary power, as also exemplified by the three terms – “health”, “economic” and “social” – that President Mattarella used in the short statement he made just after receiving the official news that he had been re-elected, in order to pinpoint the critical areas that Italy needs to tackle. Three clear key words that demand a political response, government programmes, Parliamentary reforms, for our health and for sustainable development.

Mario Draghi, feeling emboldened now that his position as Prime Minister has been secured once more – thanks to Mattarella’s re-election, in fact – also has a preference for terse and precise language. Indeed, his three-word slogan, “whatever it takes”, saved the euro and Europe (and thus also Italy’s economic and social hold), and has now gone down in the history of good statecraft. And in fact, Draghi is now doing precisely “whatever it takes” in terms of reforms and investments that are necessary to lead the country out of the hardship brought on by the pandemic and the recession.

Here’s another key word that often occurs in public speeches: “knowledge” – which also means “skill” and, of course, “training” and “education”.

“Young people”, asserted Draghi in a speech he held in September 2017 at Trinity College in Dublin, “don’t want to live on benefits. They want to work and increase their life opportunities.” And those in power have the responsibility to address “a legacy of dashed hopes, anger and, ultimately, distrust in the values of our society and in the identity of democracy.” Trust that needs to be rebuilt without “raising any false hopes”, however, but through guidance and decisions that give rise to concrete hopes instead, because “depriving young people of their future is one of the worst forms of inequality.” Therefore, “education is the primary productive expenditure in which we must invest”.

And now that Draghi is in power, he’s turning his words into reality, actualising his plans into concrete activities, regulations, funding opportunities, and the decisions made as part of the PNRR, the Italian recovery and resilience plan, as per the indications of the European Recovery Plan, are following suit.

Words are important – they are “stones”, as Carlo Levi taught us. But they’re also “light”, though not vague and ethereal, as Italo Calvino explains in his Lezioni americane (Six memos for the next millennium). “Take life lightly, for lightness does not mean superficiality but rather gliding above things, without a weight on your heart.” Or, to quote Paul Valéry’s poetry, “We must be as light as the bird that flies, not as the feather.”

What about the responsible and institutional “lightness” of Mattarella and the organisational and pragmatic “lightness” of Draghi’s good governance, then – easy feats? “Easiness is a form of perfection that contains the substance of a lengthy commitment”, to use words by Paolo Conte, a songwriter whose lyrics are extraordinarily poetic.

Mattarella is a jurist, with an extensive and sophisticated humanistic background. Through education and experience, he became well acquainted with the meaning of two Latin phrases: “Rem tene, verba sequentur” (“Grasp the subject, the words will follow”), but also “Nomina sunt consequentia rerum” (“Words are consequences of facts”). And if it’s true that Latin is a form of reasoning, these mean that words define the world, narrate its story and hint at its future, though only if deeply connected with the substance of things. Otherwise, it’s just empty rhetoric, something a good jurist is well aware of.

Mario Draghi is an economist. He studied humanities at the excellent Jesuit high school Massimiliano Massimo Institute in Rome, so that he, too, knows very well the value of words and the importance of data. At university, he learned from professor Federico Caffè, amongst other things, the import of an “economy of affect”, which entails values, human rights, expectations for a better quality of life and work, and brought his own original interpretation to a powerful idea in social reformism: “Reformists prefer a little to everything, the achievable to the utopian, gradual transformation to a sudden transformation of the ‘system’ that is always postponed”.

Both Mattarella and Draghi remind us that the ancient Romans termed “eloquens” a person “who speaks well, ethically”, as opposed to “loquens”, a person who simply “speaks”, often inappropriately – even in our times, political life is rife with such people, and that small “e” at the beginning makes all the difference.

Then again, “Latin is a precise, essential language. It will be abandoned not because it will become inadequate in meeting the new needs of progress, but because the new people will no longer be adequate for it. When the era of demagogues and charlatans begins, when any oaf can speak publicly, with impunity and without being kicked off the stage, a language such as Latin becomes redundant. And their secret lies in the exploitation of a sloppy, evasive language that nonetheless “sounds” good, so that they can speak for hours without actually saying anything. Something that cannot be done in Latin.” – a harsh and very contemporary assessment by Giovannino Guareschi, a sharp and sensitive Italian author from the 1950s.

Today, the fact that we are reconsidering learning classical languages (Latin and Greek, the languages of philosophy and science, as well as of poetry and drama) as part of a “polytechnic culture”, bodes well in terms of knowledge.

Going back to words and subtle lexical differences, another example comes to mind: the French language distinguishes between “écrivain”, a writer (novelist, essayist, a good author) and “écrivant”, someone whose job entails writing technical, ordinary, bureaucratic language – writers and scribes, in other words.

Paying attention to differences is key in a world where people speak and write meaninglessly and senselessly, foolishly heedless to the responsibility they have.

Mattarella is from Sicily and his strong, righteous attitude is completely at odds with that represented in Il gattopardo (The leopard), a novel set in Sicily in which those in power used words to deceive the people – something he knows well but that, out of his strong personal and political ethics, chooses not to emulate. Moreover, Mattarella is no doubt familiar with another great Sicilian author, Leonardo Sciascia, who, in his novel Gli zii di Sicilia (Sicilian uncles), wrote, “I believe in Sicilians who don’t speak much, who don’t get worked up, in Sicilians who keep things inside and suffer in silence: those poor people who greet us with a tired gesture, as if they belonged to the past; and colonel Carini, always so quiet and distant, choked by melancholy and boredom yet always ready for action: a man who doesn’t seem to hold much hope, yet he is hope itself, the silent fragile hope held by the best Sicilian people… A kind of hope, I mean, that fears itself, afraid of words, close to and intimate with death, rather. These people need to be known and loved for their silence, for the words they hold in their heart, unuttered.”

Just what we were saying: people of few concise words. And again, still by Sciascia, “I believe in the mystery of words and that words can become life, destiny, just as they become beauty.”

Beauty is a “light” word, a key term. It’s a commitment that concerns work and life and – why not? – governance, too.

G.B. Pirelli & C., a limited partnership for the manufacture and sale of elastic rubber items, was brought into being before the notary public Stefano Allocchio on 28 January 1872. As we read in the notarial deed of incorporation, the company was to have continued operations for 9 years, with a share capital of 215,000 lire and its headquarters in the municipality of Corpi Santi di Milano. Here, in Via Ponte Seveso, now Via Fabio Filzi, the Peregrini brothers’ company began work in early April on construction of the factory. Production started in June 1873, initially limited to technical articles made of rubber.

The factory was described by the periodical L’industriale  as “of uncommon size and not without the robust elegance of which many foreign factories are proud”. As we see in a watercolour by Salvatore Corvaja, the first Pirelli factory covered 1,000 square metres, in the open countryside, with the office building on the left and the production plant on the right. It employed 40 workers and 5 office clerks, but it was destined to grow rapidly, as production expanded, and in 1876 it began producing consumer items and in 1879 came electric and telegraph cables. By 1881 the number of workers had increased to 200 and the factory had been enlarged, though it maintained the same structure, as we see in the view printed on a letterhead a few years later.

Production of elastic thread started up in 1883, involving a particularly complex process that led to a huge and immediate increase in terms of the number of employees and the size of the company organisation. By 1884, the workforce had doubled (400 workers) and the area occupied by the factory reached 7,400 square metres, 6,150 of which were covered, with 4 steam engines with a total output of 160 horsepower, 12 mixers, 3 rolling presses, and 14 vulcanisers. This expansion is well illustrated in an 1888 drawing by Antonio Bonamore, which shows how the area has significantly expanded and the number of buildings has increased, now with 4 chimneys. Bicycle tyres entered the Pirelli product catalogue in 1890, and they were followed by car tyres in 1901.

And the factory expanded once again, until it had filled all the available space, while the city grew up all around it: this is documented by the view published for the first time in a price list of 1900, later taken up and adapted by Domenico Bonamini in 1922. New land needed to be purchased, and it was found in the area not far from the Bicocca: thus began the story of the second Pirelli production site, which was to shape the landscape and the history of Milan.

This year, a direct line links Milan and Turin through schools across all Italy. For the first time, the educational departments of the Pirelli Foundation and of the Lavazza Museum have joined forces to introduce students to the two companies, both of which have a history of developing innovative materials and products. These are two companies that, right from the outset, have valued their corporate culture and have kept a constant focus on sustainability over time. It is indeed some aspects of sustainability, such as focusing on people and workplaces, the search for sustainable raw materials, and the use of renewable energy, that are at the centre of three courses being put on for school and university students.

On the Road to Innovation is a course for upper secondary schools, illustrating the changes, innovations and technological inventions that Pirelli has introduced since it was founded 150 years ago this year, while also going to the heart of Lavazza in the A Cure of Excellence: The Tierra! Project in which the students will find out about the history of coffee.

This partnership also means that university students will learn about the business stories of the two companies, which both arose from the great entrepreneurial spirit of their founders, Giovanni Battista Pirelli and Luigi Lavazza in two special courses: The Company Past and Present and Angelo Moriondo and Luigi Lavazza: Entrepreneurs in the World of Coffee. Architecture students, in particular, will be able to examine the urban transformations that have reshaped some large areas of Milan and Turin, thanks to the interventions of Pirelli and Lavazza, respectively in the Bicocca area, with the Pirelli Headquarters designed by Vittorio Gregotti, and in the Nuvola Lavazza by Cino Zucchi, which is also home to the Lavazza Museum (The Architectures of Industry and The Lavazza Museum in a Cloud)

For more information, please write to scuole@fondazionepirelli.org (Pirelli Foundation), info.museo@lavazza.com (Lavazza Museum)

The Italian version of IMPACT: Reshaping capitalism to drive real change, a book that outlines a future where good corporate culture is best realised, has been released in Italy

We should pay attention to profits, but also to ethics; we should focus on being successful across the board, not just in terms of budget – surely, this is the future of economy and production. A future whose main features have already been outlined, though several companies and large territories still find it difficult to grasp them; a future that, at a global level, already has a name: impact revolution. Impact. La rivoluzione che sta cambiando il capitalismo (IMPACT: Reshaping capitalism to drive real change), written by Ronald Cohen and recently published in the Italian language, revolves precisely around this concept,

The work sort of summarises the brand new future that awaits our economic and social systems, something that it is clearly explained from the beginning: “The world must change, but we cannot change it by throwing money at old ideas that no longer work; we need new ideas and approaches.” In other words, it means that we need to find an alternative way to build a new world where inequality can decrease, where natural resources can regenerate and where people can benefit from a shared wealth. These expectations do not entail establishing sanctimonious companies dedicated to charity for charity’s sake, but something that is completely new as compared to the past (and, largely, to the present). Cohen – venture capitalist, entrepreneur, philanthropist, innovator in the field of social finance – attempts to impose some order on the ideas revolving around the impact revolution. Starting precisely from explaining what ‘impact revolution’ means and entails (in these same pages, the notion of so-called “triple helix of risk-return-impact” makes an appearance), to then go on and narrate the stories of entrepreneurs who got it before anyone else, and ending by outlining the role of investors who are already driving companies towards the concept of “impact in their products”. Subsequently, Cohen deals with the effects of the impact revolution within large enterprises and then with the meaning of philanthropy, “to ensure that people’s life and the environment improve as much as possible.” Finally, the last two sections of the book are dedicated to how much governments and institutions can do and to how much progress we still need to make.

As the author writes at one point: “We cannot hold on to a system that actively seeks to have a positive impact while it simultaneously gives rise to negative consequences that force governments to spend a fortune to solve them.”

Ronald Cohen’s book is, unquestionably, a fascinating and visionary one, to be read and perused with much care – with Italy and Italian companies in mind, too.

Impact. La rivoluzione che sta cambiando il capitalismo (original title: IMPACT: Reshaping capitalism to drive real change)

Ronald Cohen

LUISS University Press, 2022

A collection of essays and research articles focused on the multiple aspects of “rebuilding”, which falls on institutions, companies and individuals

Rebuilding – a difficult, yet not impossible, mission that nowadays pretty much everyone has to undertake: from individuals and institutions to families and companies. Rebuilding something that – not always and not entirely, yet for most part and most people – has been shattered not by war but by a pandemic, which has turned upside down, in rather a short time, lives, organisations, enterprises, plans and projects for the future. It’s around this goal – understood in both material and cultural terms – that the contributions collected in the recently published “Ricostruzioni” (“Rebuilding”), the latest 2021 issue of il Mulino, journal of culture and politics, revolves around.

Rebuilding, then, after a war, after famine, after a natural disaster such as an earthquake or a flood and, of course, after a pandemic. In other words, restarting virtuous processes, in order to brighten up the future for our communities, for a fairer society and a more sustainable economy. This collection of essays attempts to address this topic from every possible angle and, indeed, succeeds in doing so.

It starts by exploring the concept of rebuilding (whether it is best to keep things as they are or to renovate them), and goes on to examine aspects related to the economy, as well as features concerning the political and social structures that might be involved in rebuilding, without neglecting more specific and particular themes such as trusting institutions, necessary reforms in the healthcare system, the need to look beyond the pandemic (which will pass, one way or another), in order to find cues and resources that can be used to create a country that will be better than the one left behind.

The collection of essays and research published by il Mulino also includes insightful pieces that at first sight may appear unrelated to our current situation – such as stories about the aftermath of some of the wars we fought – as well as others concerning the environment and climate change.

An excerpt from the diaries of Piero Calamandrei perfectly summarises the whole work: “No longer independence, but ‘interdependence’: this is not a new term, and if we don’t want the past to repeat itself and exacerbate yesterday’s errors, it needs to come to stand for the new feeling of freedom which, out of so much pain, will give rise to a future that will be different from the past; freedom understood as consciousness of human solidarity, which brings together individuals and peoples, as awareness of their mutual dependence; as a condition for social justice to be respected and defended first in others, rather than in ourselves; as reciprocity and collaboration within a larger unity.”

The latest 2021 issue of il Mulino certainly makes for compelling reading.

Ricostruzioni (“Rebuilding”)

Various authors.

Il Mulino, 4/21

“Our industry is by its very nature progressive”. It was in 1880 that Giovanni Battista Pirelli said this about his recently founded company. In just in a few simple words, the sentence captures the meaning and the essence of the project that he had brought into being. “Progressive” in the sense of being committed to detecting and bringing about progress and giving it new impetus. Progress in industry, technology and production, but also in the economic and social spheres.

Also in Italy, the last thirty years of the nineteenth century were tinged with optimism. There was a sense of confidence. “Magnificent and progressive destinies” could be imagined, banishing the critical pessimism of Giacomo Leopardi’s La ginestra and turning it into something positive.

The century that was drawing to a close seemed to be anything but “superb and foolish”. The clouds of conflict were drifting away after the Franco-Prussian war of 1870-1. Italy, with the breach of Porta Pia in September 1870, finally had Rome as its capital. Industry was advancing impetuously across Europe, and across Italy too, especially in Lombardy, Piedmont and Liguria, but also in Palermo under the Florio dynasty, making up for lost time. Money circulated and banks were being opened. There was great excitement about the colonial adventures in Africa. Factories began operations, and railways were built and newspapers founded, with the Corriere della Sera in Milan in 1876, La Stampa in Turin in 1867 (initially as the Gazzetta Piemontese), and Il Messaggero in Rome in 1878. Making – and making known. A company. And its story.

The modern age had burst upon the country. New approaches were tried out in literature and painting, in music and science, in fashion and lifestyles, all of which became more cheerful, casual, and free. These economic and social transformations were assisted by the audacious wishes of a bourgeoisie that was demanding change. The frenzy of the Belle Époque had come and the dawn of the twentieth century was on its way. “Progressive”, the adjective used by the young industrialist Pirelli, well reflected the zeitgeist.

And it immediately defined a trend that was to accompany the long life of the company that bears his name: in harmony with the contemporary world, with an aptitude for innovation.

A long life: 150 years, and counting. A life to be celebrated – with a series of events that begin on Friday 28th, the date when the deed of foundation of Pirelli was signed. The first event, at the Piccolo Teatro in Milan, will bring together historical reconstructions, current events and ideas for the future (with Ferruccio de Bortoli, Stefano Domenicali, Giampiero Massolo, Paolo Mieli, Renzo Piano, Alberto Pirelli, Ferruccio Resta, Anna Maria Testa and Marco Tronchetti Provera on stage and with live streams, presented by Ilaria D’Amico). This will be followed by a whole range of institutional, cultural and economic initiatives, also in countries around the world where Pirelli has a strong industrial and commercial presence (two of the initiatives, promoted by the Italian Mint and the State Printing Office respectively, will be the issue of three commemorative coins and a special postage stamp, in the series dedicated to areas of “excellence in the economic system”).

The fundamental aim of these events is to show how a unique story has been written, linking industry, technology, culture, communication and sport. And how, in the name of innovation, there is still a long way to go.

It all began, as we have seen, on 28 January 1872, in the office of the notary public Stefano Allocchio, in Milan. The limited partnership of GB Pirelli & C. came into being. The entrepreneur, Giovanni Battista Pirelli, has recently graduated from the Politecnico University of Milan and was just back from a long educational tour of what were then the most industrialised countries in Europe, where he examined a process that still did not exist in Italy: that of rubber production.

And that was it: the seed that would become an enterprise: an innovative idea that would turn into belts, valves, pipes, coated and then waterproofed cables, bathing caps, toys… And, from the beginning of the twentieth century, tyres. All made of rubber. It started with a small factory in Via Ponte Seveso, with just a few workers and state-of-the-art machines. And then it grew. In Italy and, very soon, around the world.

Innovation came on two different levels: in the products and in the decision to go for the most selective and demanding international markets: cables to carry energy and communication signals, tyres for the most challenging sports competitions (starting with the victory in the Peking-Paris race in 1907) and for the most sophisticated daily uses.

These guidelines held sway throughout the twentieth century, together with a great emphasis on the quality and efficiency of the production plants scattered across the world, from Italy to Germany, to Great Britain and Romania, to Brazil and Argentina, United States and Mexico, Russia and China, Turkey and Indonesia (to mention only those countries where Pirelli still has industrial operations today).

The present situation is one of innovative digital factories and a great focus on environmental and social sustainability, renewable energy, and safety. As well as on an underlying idea, which is that of the “beautiful factory” – a factory that is well designed, bright, transparent, and safe, where the quality of the workplaces and the quality of the products go hand in hand. One good example of this is the Settimo Torinese plant, with the “Spina” designed by Renzo Piano to connect the two production facilities, containing offices, services and research laboratories, set a sort of park with four hundred cherry trees. This model has also been adopted for other factories around the world. The quality of its industrial architecture is another hallmark of Pirelli’s long experience, as can be seen in the Pirelli Tower designed by Gio Ponti, a symbol of the economic boom of the 1960s, and in the redevelopment of the Bicocca district to a design by Vittorio Gregotti, with the Pirelli Headquarters built around the cooling tower of the old factory. These designs and constructions have become major landmarks in today’s metropolitan areas.

It is indeed true that a company “thrives, over time, if it has values that inspire the people who lead it and that involve all those who work in it. Pride in a job well done, for example. A great thirst for innovation. The awareness that one is a key player not just in terms of economic growth, but more generally in social, civil and cultural development. These are powerful values, elements of an identity that is constantly evolving, and yet that maintains deep roots in its past. Always with an eye open to change and to the challenges of the contemporary world,” says Marco Tronchetti Provera, CEO of Pirelli.

The intensity of these challenges is clear to see in the company’s historical and current ties with the world of racing. From rallying to Formula 1, racing always offers extraordinary opportunities for testing and developing products. Race tracks and test tracks constitute a unique open-air laboratory, a test bench for products under the most extreme conditions. And the results can be seen in the products made for the market. The circle of interactions and feedback between track and road make Pirelli increasingly competitive and also help chart out its direction for the future.

In other words, innovation has always been a comprehensive policy, and it still is, now that we are delving deep into new dimensions of manufacturing and living. Electric cars and smart-city mobility. Digital factories. Robots in data-driven factories. High-tech simulators. Nanotechnologies. Cybertyres. And Artificial Intelligence applied to research, production, and consumption. These are all chapters in a story that is being lived and written right now. A story that needs economic culture and business culture to make a firm commitment to analyse and make proposals for new economic and social balances.

The markets, welfare, and democracy itself are all under pressure. Science and knowledge need to take on an unprecedented level of responsibility.

There is a slogan that epitomises Pirelli communication: “Power is nothing without control”. It was used in a 1994 advertising campaign with Carl Lewis, the extraordinary world sprinting champion, photographed in a pair of red stiletto heels by Annie Leibovitz. Innovation and wit. Over the years, the slogan has gone far beyond that brilliant advertising concept. It has broadened its meaning and now speaks of the connection between power and control and thus also of balance, and of responsibility. A corporate culture policy. But also an indication of culture and of a general sense of civic duty. In other words, a true classic. Filled with a powerful sense of contemporary values.

Narrating Milan through images, avant-garde literature, celebrations, museums.

Narrating it, for instance, through a special volume consisting in a long strip of paper that, when unfolded, comprises two metres of drawings representing its skyline, made of historical buildings and modern skyscrapers: Ecco Milano. Ritratto di una città che cambia (Here is Milan. Portrait of a city in evolution) by architect Matteo Pericoli, a Rizzoli edition that follows similar publishing initiatives for London and New York, expressing the conviction that “the new skyscrapers have narrative potential”.

Narrating it through a TV series, too – Monterossi, on Amazon Prime Video (from Monday), brings to the screen fictional character Carlo Monterossi, the protagonist of Alessandro Robecchi‘s brilliant detective stories, published by Sellerio. The character is successfully played by Fabrizio Bentivoglio, who feels perfectly at ease in the shoes of the creator of a trashy TV series called Crazy Love, ashamed of his work yet enjoying its lucrative rewards, with a passion for investigation and gloom, who obsessively listens to Bob Dylan songs and is “an accidental winner who loves losers” (as maintained by his creator Robecchi). Milan itself stars, too – black and ironic, the complete opposite of a city lit up by the “thousand lights” of finance, fashion and communication, so much so that Robecchi, who can’t stand stereotypes, asserts, “Over the past 30 years, in Milan we’re all fashion models and designers. I want to say that it’s not so, there are normal people, too. Milanese people are thought of as rich jackasses, and being from Milan myself, I want to protest this image” (la Repubblica, 15 January).

This, only in reference to design clichés as, forgetting about appearances, Milan is home to the true art of design, which characterises with quality and beauty the best industrial culture and the image of our country, and of which Milan offers extraordinary examples at the ADI Design Museum on Piazza Compasso d’Oro and in some of the main corporate museums part of Museimpresa (the association founded 20 years ago by territorial entrepreneurial institutions Assolombarda and Confindustria). There, at the ADI Museum, we find the expression of “the identity of Milan through items that have become symbolic, the material culture of our dwellings” – as wittily pointed out by Aldo Bonomi, a sociologist extremely aware of cultural and social metamorphoses – and proof of a growth that has acquired international success and gives rise to excellent export rates, a kind of “regional capitalism” that appeals to global consumers and that every year is captured by the Salone del Mobile, the local and national prestigious furniture fair boasting international allure, the focal point where industry, culture and, indeed, design intersect (Il Sole24Ore, 11 January).

Narrating Milan through its cultural celebrations, too. Like the 100^th anniversary of Giorgio Strehler‘s birth, featuring a schedule packed with initiatives held at the Piccolo Teatro and talks with other culturally prominent figures, skilfully curated by Claudio Longhi, the Piccolo’s director, fascinated by the still reverberating echoes of Lombard enlightenment and by a city “that preserves a rather unique relationship between theatre and community” (la Repubblica, 23 December 2021).

Without forgetting the 50th anniversary of the Teatro Franco Parenti, inaugurated on 16 January 1973 with the staging of “Ambleto”, by Giovanni Testori, whose commemoration by Gioele Dix and Andrée Ruth Shammah, the indomitable creative soul of the theatre, was eagerly announced to take place on 16 January.

Or, furthermore, the 20^th anniversary of the Teatro degli Arcimboldi, designed by Vittorio Gregotti in the Bicocca neighbourhood, historical site of the Pirelli plants. A theatre that, today, is a “hub of culture and sociability, a space where everyone – audience and artists – can have a good time”, as its manager Gianmario Longoni believes (la Repubblica, 11 January). All around it, the neighbourhood is growing, with a large university (with over 30,000 students), housing, service businesses, company headquarters (including Pirelli’s).

Then again, in Milan, anniversaries are never just about remembrance but rather opportunities to take stock and announce new projects, to weave memories and future together.

In essence, it’s customary to narrate a city by representing its life on the move, and here we can only presume that, among commitments, investments and ambitious projects, being on the move means intense activity, a vainglorious frenzy, even. Yet, things really do happen, suffice to look at the quality of life chart drawn up, like every year, by newspaper Il Sole24Ore, showing Milan in second place in 2021, just after Trieste, almost reaching the lead it boasted in 2019.

Milan as a hard-working, vain city, whose many social and cultural (and as such economic) sides are troubled by the persistence of the COVID-19 pandemic, so much so that it’s considering to postpone its Salone del Mobile, usually held in April, to the summer. Nonetheless, a city that never stands still: recalling just a few recent headlines, works in MilanoSesto, on the 250,000 square metres where the Falck Steelworks used to be, are beginning (one of the most significant urban regeneration project in Europe); the new campus of the Brera Academy is being built on the site of the former Farini railway station; new investments have been injected into MIND (Milano Innovation District, where seven years ago the Expo 2015 was held, marking the metropolis’ impetuous recovery).

No one, in the social and cultural spheres, in the corporate world and in public administration denies the burdens of this crisis. No one underestimates its personal and social costs. Yet, everyone is aware of the underlying nature of a metropolis that draws together, absorbs, integrates and knows how to harmonise productivity and social inclusion, competitiveness and solidarity: a culture based on projects, work, enterprise, know-how – all new beginnings, in fact, and narration is part of all this.

(Photo by Emanuele Cremaschi/Getty Images)

The story of a baker’s personal and business experience turns into the perfect management manual for production organisations

Enterprise above all, even (or perhaps, especially) when bread is concerned – enterprise nonetheless, as it entails the undertaking something new, accomplished according to how we feel it should really be done, planned, built, pieced together day after day with determination, ingenuity, innovation and imagination. This is how enterprising stories always go – they are always the same and yet always different from each other, and always have “practice” teaching us something that “theory” cannot provide. This is why we learn something new every time we read the experiences of entrepreneurs that have “made their own business”.

Just as it happens with Volevo solo fare il panettiere (I only wanted to be a baker), written by Luigi Luini – a real baker, i.e. a real entrepreneur, who, reached a certain point in his long life, decided to write a book about his experience, a unique story that is also a perfect corporate management manual. So much so, that the foreword has been written by Sandro Castaldo, full professor of economy and corporate management at the Bocconi University of Milan, who has no qualms about paying tribute to this baker born in Apulia and living in Milan and who, in flawless academic language, confirms how the “Luini Milano forno dal 1888” bakery is the perfect example of an enterprise that is both innovative yet steeped in tradition, able to evolve by integrating the most modern marketing tools while retaining product continuity and its place on the market.

Luini begins his narration with a statement: “I don’t see any fundamental difference between a bakery product and a handshake. Panzerotti (savoury turnovers), taralli (hefty crackers), friselle (savoury biscuits) and rosette bread rolls are all made by hand, by an individual who, in that hand, holds his or her whole ingenuity and self.” Handiwork, or manufacture: the making of something whose origins may be remote, something that reinvents itself while staying the same. Luini retraces 90 years of corporate history that, accompanied by many images, brings back childhood memories and family events, quirky details, anecdotes and the choices that determined an entrepreneurial success built on tradition and bold innovation. The Luini bakery’s story also intertwines with that of Italy, travelling across the country on the trail of a moustachioed maternal grandfather who leaves Bisceglie (Apulia) with only his good shirt and the secrets of Apulian cuisine, whose baked goods will win over a city (Milan), becoming part of the local gastronomy, to then end up on the other side of the world via global word of mouth. Nowadays, we would say that ‘it is all thanks to constant care for product quality and innovation’ or, more succinctly, we would call it ‘corporate wisdom’, which Luini narrates with passion, baring it all, and thus captivating the reader.

Introducing Luini’s literary efforts, the Bocconi academic acknowledges what the author, just like all real entrepreneurs, already knows: “His words are confirmation that, in the end, the key resources of a company are the women and men who bring it to life, their feelings and their ideas.” Luigi Luini’s book is definitely a must read.

Volevo solo fare il panettiere (I only wanted to be a baker)

Luigi Luini

EGEA, 2021