Innovation with a soul

Real innovation or the kind that stands the test of time, is not only technological, but moral. It begins not in laboratories or boardrooms, but in our collective imagination. It begins when we dare to ask: How can we innovate to live better together?

File photo
File photo

We live in an age where innovation has become the defining word of progress. It shapes how we speak about the economy, education, healthcare, and even culture. Yet, somewhere along the way, innovation has begun to sound cold and mechanical, detached from the human realities it was meant to serve.

If innovation becomes an end in itself, it risks losing its purpose. For what use is a faster algorithm if it leaves us more isolated? What value is there in greater productivity if it erodes our sense of balance and wellbeing? What kind of progress are we celebrating if it forgets the people it was meant to uplift?

Real innovation or the kind that stands the test of time, is not only technological, but moral. It begins not in laboratories or boardrooms, but in our collective imagination. It begins when we dare to ask: How can we innovate to live better together?

Through the Economy of Wellbeing study that I launched we asked hundreds of Maltese people what truly matters to them. The answers were deeply human. People spoke about their families, their mental health, their communities, their need for a cleaner environment, and their hope for a fair chance to build a decent life. Economic growth matters, but it means little without the emotional and social foundations that make life worth living.

That is why I’ve always argued that innovation must serve wellbeing, not replace it. Technology is a tool, not a destination. It should save time, not steal it. It should empower, not control. It should connect us, not divide us. When we forget that, we risk turning innovation into a race that nobody really wins.

Europe today faces an important crossroad. We can either treat innovation as a race for competitive advantage, or as a shared journey towards resilience, dignity, and sustainability. The European Water Resilience Strategy, which I had the honour to lead, was built precisely on this idea. It recognised that innovation is not just about sensors and smart grids, but it’s about protecting life itself. It’s about farmers having enough water to sustain their crops, industries having the stability to grow responsibly, and families having the confidence that their environment is safe.

Malta, despite its size, has every reason to lead by example. Our geography, our agility, and our creativity allow us to experiment, adapt, and connect faster than larger countries can. We can be Europe’s testing ground for innovation that works at a human scale be it in water management, sustainable tourism, balanced work-life, digital inclusion, and social wellbeing.

But for that to happen, innovation cannot be stifled by bureaucracy or short-term politics. It needs an ecosystem built on trust and purpose—one that allows entrepreneurs to focus on building, researchers on discovering, and communities on thriving. Cutting red tape is not about deregulation; it is about creating breathing space for creativity.

The world is changing fast, and Malta cannot afford to stand still. But nor should we run blindly. Progress without direction leads nowhere. The real challenge for this generation is not how to innovate more, but how to innovate better and ensure every new idea contributes to a fairer, greener, and more compassionate society.

Because in the end, innovation is not about the machine, the code, or the app. It’s about the people who use them, and the lives they touch. It’s about the laughter of our children, the security of our elders, and the dignity of every worker.

If Malta succeeds in giving innovation a soul, we will not only move faster, but we will move closer. Closer to each other, to our values, and to the kind of future that feels not just advanced, but truly human.