Jordanian television programme Nabd Al Balad surprised its viewers by hosting “Farah”, the Jordanian government’s digital spokesperson. At first glance, the interview looked remarkably similar to one with a real guest: Farah spoke and responded, while her facial expressions and lip movements were strikingly synchronised with her voice. Farah is, of course, not a real person, but a character generated entirely through artificial intelligence. Yet, moving her from short social-media clips into the setting of a television interview gave the experiment a different dimension and stirred considerable curiosity about what this technology might bring to government communication.

 

The idea, in my view, is smart and deserves attention—not simply because it employs artificial intelligence, which is hardly novel in itself, but because it reflects an official recognition that there is a genuine problem in government communication: A gap between what the government believes it is doing and what actually reaches citizens. Farah was therefore introduced primarily as a tool to simplify government decisions, policies and information, with an English-language version already available and the possibility of expanding into other languages.

 

Farah is not the first experiment of its kind internationally. In 2024, Ukraine introduced “Victoria Shi” as a digital representative of its Foreign Ministry on consular affairs. Albania went even further with “Diella”, who began as a digital assistant for government services before Prime Minister Edi Rama gave her the unprecedented designation of “Minister of State for Artificial Intelligence.” Other experiments, from China to Northern Europe, are also expanding the use of AI in public services and citizen interaction.

 

Government communication has long been one of the chronic challenges facing Jordanian governments. Prime Minister Jafar Hassan appears to have recognized that a significant part of his government’s work does not receive the public and media attention it deserves—and, to a considerable extent, he is right. Major strategic projects, such as the National Water Carrier and the Aqaba Port railway, alongside other infrastructure and investment projects, should presumably occupy a prominent place in public debate. Yet, the government’s narrative surrounding these projects does not always reach citizens with the impact the government expects.

 

The numbers tell a similar story. A good example can be found in the series of digital reports published by the Politics and Society Institute (PSI), most recently a report by its Digital Listening Unit, prepared by researcher Rand Azm. The report monitored Jordanian online discussions surrounding six major projects between January and the end of August and revealed a genuine problem in the communication bridges between government and society.

 

Although the Aqaba Port railway topped the discussion with approximately 146,800 interactions, a significant part of the debate shifted away from the project’s economic and logistical importance towards the expropriation of citizens’ land and compensation. The National Water Carrier, one of Jordan’s largest strategic projects, generated only around 7,800 digital discussions; 32.3 per cent of the content was negative, compared with only 18.8 per cent positive. The green ammonia project received just 126 posts, almost as though its identity and significance were entirely unknown to Jordanian public opinion.

 

The real challenge for the government—and perhaps for governments around the world today—is that social media has become an integral part of the public sphere, where perceptions, images and attitudes are formed. Governments are not competing there only with criticism and opposition, but also with rumours, satire and fragmented information, all operating within algorithms that naturally reward the most provocative and attention-grabbing content.

 

From this perspective, Farah appears to offer an innovative solution: A new means of reaching the public, particularly younger generations, and presenting government information differently. Yet, as the discussion on Nabd Al Balad also demonstrated, the experiment remains at an early stage and requires further development, while the content Farah presents continues to be subject to human review and verification.

 

At the same time, it is essential to recognize that improving the government’s “transmitter” alone cannot solve the communication problem. The question is not only: How does the government reach citizens? It is equally: How do citizens reach the government?

 

This is the part of the equation that deserves as much attention as Farah herself. What is needed is a stronger “receiver”: Robust feedback loops capable of capturing what people are actually saying. Digital listening is no less important than digital communication. It can enable the government to adjust its narrative—and sometimes even its policies—in response to public reactions, rather than merely measuring how widely its message has travelled.After all, what matters is not simply that Farah can speak. What matters is that Farah can listen.