In an era of fragmented media, Works in Progress offers a rare antidote: a curated wishlist of deep, historical, and technical journalism that refuses to chase the daily news cycle. The piece argues that the most vital stories are often hidden in the "long wait" for scientific breakthroughs or the quiet mechanics of economic policy, not in the shouting matches of the moment. It challenges the modern reader to consider that understanding how a gas turbine became efficient or how a specific tax reform in France altered growth trajectories is more urgent than the latest political scandal.
The Architecture of Growth
The editors begin by asserting that "Capital matters a lot," using this as a lens to examine why some nations thrive while others stagnate. They point to Scotland's rise in the 1700s and 1800s, attributing it to "good banking institutions," while contrasting this with Europe's post-2010 growth lag, which they suggest may stem from banking systems that "prevented the flow of credit." This reframing of economic history away from cultural determinism toward institutional mechanics is compelling. It forces a reconsideration of what drives prosperity, suggesting that the flow of money is as critical as the labor that moves it.
The piece also highlights the transformative power of state-led reform, citing the Prussian experience. It notes that after Prussia's defeat by Napoleon in 1806, ministers Stein and Hardenberg launched a massive overhaul where "within a few years, serfdom had been abolished, land reformed, the guilds crushed, local government established, and the foundations of industrialization laid." This historical parallel serves as a potent reminder that rapid structural change is possible when political will aligns with technical expertise. However, critics might note that the speed of these reforms often came at a high social cost for the displaced guilds and peasantry, a nuance the piece hints at but does not fully explore.
"The historical case study has become our staple, and we'll keep running them. But some of our best early work took other forms... more narrative journalism, more diaries, and more reporting."
This commitment to varied formats is central to the publication's identity. They explicitly seek to move beyond dry analysis, calling for "diaries of a Zika vaccine trial" or features on the "invention of super glue." By asking for stories that humanize the technical, they bridge the gap between abstract policy and lived experience.
The Unseen Mechanics of Society
Moving from macro-economics to the micro-details of daily life, the editors question the inevitability of modern trends. They ask why "the spread of tipping" has migrated globally, suggesting it was not a cultural shift but a design choice: "Square's payment terminals, which made soliciting tips convenient and the default option." This observation strips away the moral panic often associated with tipping culture, revealing it instead as a consequence of software interfaces. It is a sharp reminder that our social norms are often dictated by the tools we use.
Similarly, the piece probes the mystery of "Polish fracking." Despite Europe's shale reserves and Poland's early licensing efforts, no gas was extracted. The editors ask, "Why?" implying that the answer lies not in simple regulatory bans but in a complex web of economic and political factors. This investigative angle is crucial; it refuses to accept the surface-level explanation that Europe simply "banned fracking," pushing instead for a deeper understanding of why specific markets fail to materialize even when the resources are present.
"North and South Korea shared a language, culture, and economic base in 1945... It's one of the most striking natural experiments in development economics."
The divergence of the Korean peninsula is cited as a definitive case study. The editors note that by some measures, the North was "more industrialized as late as the 1960s," making the subsequent gap even more stark. This framing underscores the power of institutional choices over cultural or geographic determinism. It suggests that the "natural experiment" of Korea offers a clearer lesson on development than any theoretical model.
The Bottlenecks of Innovation
Perhaps the most striking section of the wishlist focuses on the frustrating gaps in scientific progress. The editors ask, "Where's my p53 cancer drug?" noting that p53 is the "most important protein in protecting us against cancer," yet decades after its discovery, no effective drug exists. This highlights a critical disconnect between biological understanding and therapeutic application. The piece also questions why we still lack a syphilis vaccine despite the disease's ancient history and rising prevalence, asking simply, "Why?"
In the realm of agriculture, they point to the "long wait for RNAi crops," noting that while the mechanism was understood in the 1980s, the first pesticide only cleared approval in 2023. This delay suggests that regulatory hurdles, rather than scientific limitations, are the primary barrier to innovation. The editors also celebrate the versatility of plastic, describing it as "one of humanity's great creations" that has made everything from clothing to electronics more durable. This balanced view—acknowledging both the environmental costs and the material benefits—avoids the simplistic demonization often found in mainstream coverage.
"The blood-brain barrier keeps pathogens and toxins out of the brain with remarkable efficiency, as well as nearly every drug we try to send to it."
This biological reality, described as "the brain's locked door," explains the difficulty in treating conditions like Alzheimer's and Parkinson's. The piece frames this not as a failure of medicine, but as a formidable engineering challenge that requires new strategies. It is a call to action for researchers to "crack" this barrier, emphasizing that the solution lies in technical innovation rather than increased funding alone.
The Human Cost of Policy
The editors also touch on the intersection of economics and social stability, asking if inflation is driving the rise of extremism. They probe the historic links between price instability and political disorder, questioning if inflation "contributed to Nazi Germany" or "ended the Soviet Union." This line of inquiry is vital, as it connects abstract economic indicators to the very real human suffering that fuels populism. It suggests that the "price system" itself may be unsustainable in the face of high inflation, threatening the social fabric.
Furthermore, the piece highlights the success of Brazil's Embrapa, which transformed the "cerrado"—a savanna once deemed unfit for farming—into a breadbasket. This serves as a counter-narrative to the idea that developing nations cannot achieve agricultural self-sufficiency. It asks, "What does it tell us about publicly funded R&D in low- and middle-income countries?" implying that state investment in science can yield massive returns, a lesson often overlooked in favor of privatization narratives.
"The World Bank and other organizations deployed emergency financing fast enough to help avert a large-scale famine."
This example of the World Bank's rapid response in Somalia challenges the stereotype of international institutions as slow-moving bureaucracies. It suggests that when the political will exists, these bodies can act with surprising agility to prevent human catastrophe. It is a reminder that the machinery of global governance, while flawed, can still function as a lifeline.
Bottom Line
Works in Progress makes a persuasive case that the most important stories of our time are not found in the headlines, but in the slow, often invisible work of institutions, technologies, and historical reforms. The piece's greatest strength is its refusal to simplify complex systems, instead inviting readers to grapple with the messy details of how the world actually works. Its biggest vulnerability is the sheer ambition of its wishlist; without the resources to commission these deep dives, the publication risks remaining a critic of the status quo rather than a shaper of it. The reader should watch for whether this publication can turn its own high standards into the actual articles it seeks, bridging the gap between what it wants to read and what it can produce.