When Dr. Matteo Grigoletto speaks about artisanal gold mining in Madre de Dios, he begins by widening the frame. The region is “a hub of biodiversity, not only for Peru but for the entire world,” he explains. Yet this extraordinary ecosystem is increasingly under pressure from the expansion of extractive activities.

Grigoletto, who wrote his PhD on the political economy of gold mining in Madre de Dios, notes that compared to some other industries, the deforestation directly caused by gold mining can be less extensive than that linked to activities such as cattle ranching. However, gold mining poses another serious threat: the use of mercury, a toxic substance that contaminates ecosystems and harms human health.

In Madre de Dios, gold is traditionally extracted using mercury to bind fine gold particles from river sediment. When the amalgam is burned, mercury vapors are released and “end up in water, in the forest, and so on.”, he explains. “Miners are aware of this for the most part, and they are aware that there are alternatives,” yet adoption of these different technologies and clean solutions remains limited. 

Despite the advantages of mercury-free gold mining, several barriers remain. Cost is one of them. Mercury-free alternatives are often “more expensive.” Yet Matteo explains that price alone does not explain the resistance. There is also what he calls a “huge psychological barrier.” For many miners, practices are inherited. “They say, my grandfather was using mercury, why should I stop using mercury?” he explains.

Beyond this lies a deeper narrative. Matteo describes how miners often feel criminalized by society, even when they are willing to improve their practices. This creates a sense of being trapped in a stigma. Even the miners who want to make changes, he says, feel locked into a status quo.

This is where Matteo’s work begins. Instead of asking miners to change through pressure or prohibition, his research asks a different question: what actually motivates change? 

Matteo’s approach draws on both psychology and political economy, particularly the concept of the “aspiration gap.” He explains it simply as “the difference between the status quo and an aspired status, a better status.” If the gap is too small, there is no incentive to move. If it is too large, people stop believing change is possible. “They just think, I will never get there, so I will not even try.” 

The project’s goal, he says, is to carefully widen that gap while keeping it attainable. To do so, Matteo and his colleagues propose a new narrative: one where miners who adopt cleaner technology are not framed as victims or offenders, but as respected economic actors. In this narrative, miners become businesspeople, role models, and contributors to their communities. The medium chosen to convey this shift is deliberately accessible: video. 

To create this narrative, the research team worked with a Peruvian filmmaking company. They provided the filmmakers with a clear constraint: two videos would be produced containing the exact same information — the dangers of mercury, the existence of alternatives, and the basics of cleaner technologies. The difference would lie entirely in how the information was presented. 

One video delivers facts in an objective, policy-style format. The other embeds those same facts into an aspirational story, following a miner who moves from working in the mud to becoming a respected businessman through the adoption of cleaner technology. “The goal is not only to show them where they could go,” Matteo explains, “but also how they could do it.” 

This distinction is crucial. Matteo notes that many interventions in Peru oscillate between criminalization and overwhelming demands for total change. “Miners are just overwhelmed,” he says. What the project tries to offer instead is “an attainable pathway to change.” 

One of the project’s defining features is how closely research and fieldwork are intertwined. The idea grew out of academic work in political economy, but it was shaped by Matteo’s time in Peru and by collaboration with local partners. “This would be absolutely impossible without the colleagues at the Hub South America,” he says, emphasizing co-design rather than top-down intervention. 

Methodologically, the project takes the form of a “lab-in-the-field” experiment. Miners are randomly divided into two groups. One group watches the factual video, the other the narrative video. Because the information is identical, any differences in outcomes can be traced back to the power of narrative itself. What makes participation possible, however, is an unexpected element: football. 

“Miners do care about technology and the future of mining,” Matteo says, “but they also care about football.” The research sessions are therefore paired with football tournaments, which serve as a social anchor rather than a gimmick. Alongside the matches, miners are offered demonstrations of shaker tables and financial training workshops. 

Matteo is candid about the strategy. The tournament is a way to make participation appealing, to create trust, and to build networks among miners who often operate in isolation. Beyond the experiment itself, he sees this social connection as an outcome in its own right. “Big changes don’t happen without coordination and cooperation,” he says. 

Impact, Matteo argues, is not a single metric. Engagement itself matters. So does exposure to new technology, access to buyers of clean gold, and opportunities for training. At the experimental level, outcomes range from shifts in beliefs and attitudes to concrete actions, such as whether participants choose to meet a clean gold buyer, an effort-requiring step that signals genuine interest in change. 

The project, he stresses, is not a silver bullet. “I’m not naive,” Matteo says. A single video will not transform lives or landscapes overnight. But when weighed against its cost, even small shifts matter. “If even one miner reaches out to get more information,” he says, “that’s big.” 

Toward the end of the conversation, Matteo reflects on what the project has taught him personally. Mining, he says, creates negative impacts, but it also provides livelihoods for many people. Too often, debates reduce miners to villains or victims. The reality, he argues, is far more nuanced. 

Many miners know the risks. They also know that their families need income and that they create jobs. What they seek, Matteo observes, is recognition — not absolution, but dignity. “They really care about being considered proper economic agents,” he says, businesspeople rather than criminals. 

This insight shapes the heart of the project’s narrative. Environmental arguments alone may not resonate with everyone. Respect does. And change, Matteo believes, is more likely to begin there.