Digitalization Is Incomplete Unless It Includes Everyone

You go to the bank and hear, “We no longer do this at the branch; you can use the mobile app.” A hospital appointment requires a phone or the internet. A public service directs you to e-Devlet. Paying bills, buying tickets, tracking deliveries, applying to the municipality… An increasing part of life is moving inside a small screen.

I am not opposed to digitalization. Done well, it saves hours in queues, reduces public costs, and genuinely makes life easier. But every convenience can conceal people we overlook: those without smartphones, those unable to use apps despite having one, those who forget passwords or cannot read small text, those afraid of fraud who avoid online banking, those with limited Turkish, and those unable to use standard interfaces because of disability. Then there are those calling a child or grandchild: “Could you look at this for me?”

The figures tell us two things

Türkiye has built substantial infrastructure for digital public services. By 2026, e-Devlet had more than 68 million users and thousands of services available electronically. This is a significant achievement.

At the same time, Turkish Statistical Institute household technology surveys show high overall internet use but a marked decline with age. With Türkiye’s population over sixty-five exceeding 9.5 million, millions of people lie behind that decline.

Internet access also does not mean independent digital participation. Someone able to send a photograph on WhatsApp may be unable to complete a complex e-Devlet application alone. This is not limited to older people; even young people raised with technology can struggle with official forms, electronic signatures, or identifying a secure link.

Institutions must recognize that closing the old channel entirely when moving a service online may speed up transactions while making access harder for some citizens. “You can use the app” is convenient for someone comfortable with technology, but an insurmountable wall for someone who does not know what an app is. In health, pensions, benefits, taxes, or banking, that wall makes a person dependent on others to access their own rights.

Another sensitive issue arises when older people ask children, relatives, neighbors, or strangers to handle transactions. They hand over a phone, disclose an SMS code, or share an e-Devlet password. Well-intentioned help can create serious personal data and financial security risks. Fake messages, counterfeit banking screens, and social engineering keep evolving. Expanding digital systems must include teaching people to protect themselves, alongside using the system.

What can be done?

This does not require huge investment. Public buildings can host digital support points that demonstrate safe use rather than perform transactions on someone’s behalf. Municipalities can offer short digital literacy programs for older people at neighborhood centers. Banks can provide a simplified “easy mode” with large text and fewer menus. Accessible telephone lines and human support at branches should remain for critical transactions.

Accessibility should be considered from the beginning of design rather than added afterward. A person with a visual or hearing impairment accessing a service is exercising a right, not receiving a favor. Clear and, where necessary, multilingual guidance for people with limited written Turkish and foreign residents also reduces mistakes in critical services.

We should measure digital government’s success by how many people can complete transactions independently, without fear, and safely, as well as how many services move online. A task we complete on our mother’s phone in two minutes today may be something we ask another person about in twenty years. Building an inclusive digital order is an investment in our own future.