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Monday 12 October 2015

American hubris, African nemesis

http://www.thelancet.com/journals/lancet/article/PIIS0140-6736%2814%2960092-1/fulltext?elsca1=TW&elsca2=socialmedia

American hubris, African nemesis

Nina Munk's The Idealist is a deep and important book about foreign aid and development: grandiose plans, especially those hatched abroad, will be brought down by the complexity and unknowability of local conditions and human behaviour. Beyond the enormous punch that the book delivers, the quality of the writing is that of a fine novel, not of the usual tract in social science. We get to know and care about the characters, including Munk herself; we share their dedication, their optimism, and their dreams of improving lives. We also care when their illusions are destroyed, and their dedication is betrayed. Much of the message is conveyed by the arc of the story, and by the change in Munk's own voice as she moves from her initial optimism and her commitment to reporting on something that really matters—the fight against global poverty—into final disillusion. It is a trip that many of us have made over the years, but few with so much knowledge from the field and none whose experiences are so eloquently and movingly reported.
Academic writers have explored this territory too. James Scott's Seeing Like a State: How Certain Schemes to Improve the Human Condition Have Failed, documents, among other schemes, Stalin's catastrophic collectivisation of agriculture, as well as Julius Nyerere's failed attempt to relieve poverty by having everyone in rural Tanzania live in “rationally” planned villages. Both schemes took their inspiration from the USA, and from the modernist belief in technology and social engineering. In one case, in 1928, during 2 weeks in a Chicago hotel room, three American experts produced detailed plans for a 500 000-acre Russian collective farm. James Ferguson's The Anti-politics Machine is about a failed Canadian development scheme in Lesotho. Unfortunately for the developers, Lesotho did not look anything like the “dual-economy” model then fashionable among economists—any more than Russian or Tanzanian farms looked like the model farms of the planners. Economists, perhaps even more than other social scientists, are susceptible to mistaking their models for reality. Ambitious plans, even when formulated domestically, can never know enough not to be undone by the complexity on the ground. The law of unintended consequences is the engine that inevitably brings nemesis to such hubris.
Jeffrey Sachs, the eponymous idealist of Munk's tragedy, holds to a model of economic development in which poverty cannot be broken piecemeal, but must be attacked on all fronts at once. Perhaps people cannot save for the future because they are too poor or too unhealthy, or both; perhaps they cannot improve their health or their productivity without the investments that depend on saving; or perhaps their productivity is low because they are not adequately nourished which, in turn, comes about because their productivity is so low. These vicious circles cause “poverty traps” from which people cannot escape except through a “big push” from outside. “In order to make lasting changes in any one sphere of development, we must improve them all”, argues the website of the Millennium Villages, where “all” comprises eight categories: education, mother and child health, business and entrepreneurship, gender equality, technology, the environment and intervention, water and energy, and food. (Note the “we”, which presumably means the western visitors to the website.)


http://oxfamblogs.org/fp2p/arguing-with-angus-deaton-on-aid/