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SpeechPublished on 21 October 2025

Opening of the School of Public Policy: Excel meets Word

Zurich, 21.10.2025 — Address by Federal Councillor Ignazio Cassis, Head of the Federal Department of Foreign Affairs (FDFA) on the occasion of the founding of the Albert Einstein School – Check against delivery

Ladies and gentlemen

I am delighted to have the pleasure of addressing you today to mark the founding of the Albert Einstein School of Public Policy.

Einstein was not just a brilliant physicist. When it came to societal issues, he was also a lateral thinker.


In a 1949 essay penned by Einstein, the Nobel Prize winner wrote: politics is more difficult than physics.

He knew that solving the problems of humanity was far more complicated than deciphering the laws of nature. Because the laws of nature are based on certainties; whereas human problems are about values, interests and responsibility.

Dedicating this centre to Einstein therefore seems very fitting to me.

The pandemic as starting point

In preparation for today's event, I spoke to Walter Thurnherr about his forthcoming book.


The account took me back to the turbulent days when the COVID-19 pandemic first broke out.

As a doctor, I knew how viruses spread – but this was uncharted territory for many in the Federal Council at the time. For me, it was clear from the start: the scientific community must be involved.

But the decision to do so did not materialise quite as quickly. The question arose: does politics really need science?

So we started cautiously, with epidemiologists first. Until we began to realise that there were other disciplines that should be brought on board too.

As federal councillors we were looking for insights, findings and truth, so that better decisions could be made. What we found, however, was above all one thing: complexity.

The hope that science would make it easier to take decisions during those turbulent times proved to be illusory. It could not meet the expectations of either politicians or of society – simply because no one could. And the result? Heated debates about the role and job of science in politics.

But I won't give anything else away – instead, you should definitely read the book. Which, by the way, I am expecting a signed copy of.

Looking back and lessons learnt

Looking back, the pandemic turned out to be a stress test for the relationship between politics and science.

So it makes sense to revisit this time and reflect on what happened: What did we get right? What did we get wrong? What would we do differently today?

Today, we find it difficult to relate to many of the heightened emotions that were experienced back then. We found some decisions unnecessarily hard while others were surprisingly easy to make, considering the consequences.

Now that we have more expertise and distance, some things would probably look quite different today. But the main issue is not so much what decisions were made, but how they were made.

What the pandemic showed us is that we need to practise dealing with scientific findings as well as uncertainty in normal times – so that we know what to do when there is an actual crisis.

Two worlds: science and politics

As a former scientist and in my current role as politician, I have personal experience of both worlds. And what I see is the sober logic of scientific methods, and the often unpredictable dynamics that characterise the field of politics.

That is why I understand how vital it is to build bridges between these two worlds.

In a nutshell, if I may,

researchers tend to be Excel types – meaning they work with data, tables and models. They take a step-by-step approach to questioning existing truths and making new discoveries. For them, truth is always relative to what we know right now.

Politicians, on the other hand, tend to be Word types – they use stories, narratives and interpretations. They search for truth, which they create through their decisions. For politicians, truth is something absolute.

Truth and knowledge

Humanity has questioned the nature of truth for centuries. The fact that ‘truth’ has been widely debated throughout the history of ideas demonstrates just how challenging this epistemological difference is.

If we were to invite some of the key scholars from this field to the Federal Council, it might go something like this.

Kant would say: “Do not expect absolute truth.
Popper would add: Exactly. Truth only emerges from errors."
Hegel would reply: “Even with the truth, it is the journey that is the destination.”
Then Nietzsche, disparagingly: “What you are looking for is not truth, but security.”
Followed by Foucault, in despair: “But it is you who are producing truth!
And finally Kierkegaard, in a convincing manner:
Do what you believe to be true.”

Yes...
And here, poor fool! with all my lore! I stand, no wiser than before!

As you can see, opinions differ even on the concept of truth. Is truth absolute, relative or subjective?

Division of roles between science and politics

So what are the respective remits of scientists and politicians? And what do they expect from each other?

Both domains work with the same raw material – truth – but their products are different.

Scientists have the task of generating knowledge: measurable, traceable and open to peer review. Politicians have the task of taking responsibility and making decisions: to turn knowledge into action – legitimately and sustainably.

Scientists want to know what is.
Politicians must decide what should be.

Politicians expect science to provide clarity, which makes it easier for them to make decisions. Scientists expect politicians to be rational and to translate their findings into action.

But it is rare to have both at the same time: more information does not always make a decision easier. And the more decisive you are, the less room there is for doubt.

Democracy instead of algorithms

In my capacity as a politician, I understand the scientific community's aspiration for their work to be relevant. And as a scientist, I understand the idealised view of politics, which is to generate the best possible outcome from scientific findings, as if by means of an algorithm.

But politics is not a mathematical model.

That is why researchers are sometimes disappointed by ‘unscientific’ or ‘irrational’ decisions.

However, the determining algorithm in politics is not science, but democracy.

It is not designed to produce scientifically ‘correct’ solutions, nor is it always interested in doing so.

What it does provide is consensus – representing and reflecting a diversity of perspectives. It determines priorities and what is feasible.

This is not a mistake, but its purpose. Or, in their words: it is not a bug, but a feature of our democracy.

The temptations of technocracy

But it is this very struggle that the world is now grappling with. Democracy produces results that are unpalatable to some.

And when democracy leads to ‘unwelcome’ results, the temptation to skirt around them grows – through technocracy, the courts, or committees of experts.

Some people are therefore talking about an “expertocracy” – particularly the experts themselves!


This may sound rational, but it is in many ways stripped of its democratic core.

This tendency is accompanied by the temptation to relinquish political responsibility – to automate decisions.

But those who relinquish responsibility also forfeit their scope for shaping these decisions.

It is absurd for parties to elect artificial intelligence as their chairpersons or for states to appoint machines as ministers.

Who bears responsibility when no one can explain how a decision was reached?

Automation promises efficiency, but it deprives politics of discourse – and, therefore, of its legitimacy.

In this way, mathematical parameters become key political issues.And the only people who can have a say are those who understand the code. Democracy becomes a programme for insiders, and power lies with whoever controls the machine.

The importance of discourse

Political discourse is not a needless detour that can be substituted by an algorithm. It is an integral part of democratic legitimacy.

It is only through public debate that policy decisions can be fully justified.

Switzerland in particular – as a powerhouse of consensus – thrives on the principle that dialogue produces better solutions, or at least the perception of better solutions.

Swiss citizens also have a keen sense of what is likely to gain a majority and what is not.

And that is why we can have every confidence in our democratic system.

Science, morality and credibility

Just as we are making politics more technocratic on the one hand, we are turning it into a moral issue on the other.

Every aspect of life is being turned into a political issue: religion, gender, court rulings – everything is falling prey to a shrill, moralising mainstream.

And now science is also being appropriated for this cause.

But science must be driven by curiosity, not political activism.

There is no need for science if the hypothesis randomly manipulates the results.

When the pursuit of knowledge takes a back seat to political agendas, science loses its credibility as a compass for both politics and society as a whole.

It becomes political itself – and its findings up for negotiation.

The significance of this new centre

This brings me to the raison d'être of this new centre.

Einstein would probably have loved this place too – a hub where expertise, responsibility and intellectual curiosity converge.

Not to validate, but to comprehend.

Einstein stated: “Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.”

Applying this to our times, you could say: “Science without politics has no impact – and politics without science has no direction.”

My hope is that this centre will serve to bring Excel and Word, insight and decision-making, opinion and truth closer together.

Because narratives without facts degenerate into ideology, and data without narratives are confined to the ivory tower.

The job of this new School of Public Policy is to bring these two languages together.

In conclusion:

What would our earlier epistemologists have advised us politicians to do?

After a heated debate, they would probably have exclaimed in unison:


“Just take a decision!”


– followed by a caution from Kant: “But please, do think first...”

I would like to offer my warmest congratulations on the founding of this school and eagerly await the ideas that will be generated here.

And I will be interested to see whether ETH Zurich will be represented at the 23rd Nobel Prize – the competition is strong... and fierce!