Laura Noonan, MPA
Since the inception of Occupy Wall Street (OWS) in September, critics and commentators have questioned both the motives and tactics of the populist movement. Perhaps the most common objection is that OWS protestors have failed to focus on a single, unifying demand. To be sure, their concerns are broad, and even at times seemingly conflicting. Issues that have been voiced include protesting social and economic inequality, high unemployment, corporate greed and corruption, and the undue influence of corporations – especially financial services firms – on the political process.
The fact is, their demands are far from simple. While some are fairly tangible (e.g. more progressive tax policies), others (like reducing the influence of Wall Street and corporations on the political process) are much more complex, requiring the overall of deeply-embedded systems.
For that reason alone, it was ultimately beneficial for the OWS movement that protestors were recently forced out of Zuccotti Park in New York City and other locations across the country. While an aggressive tactic such as ”occupation” was perhaps necessary to draw initial attention to their cause, over time it was bound to became a war of attrition, one that would be nearly impossible for the protestors to win given the lack of clear solutions to the issues they are protesting.
Semi-permanent encampments also require intense dedication from protestors, tending to draw a higher proportion of the more extreme (less understood, more easily attacked) supporters, while potentially scaring more moderate compatriots away. I, for instance, care deeply about economic and social inequality, but chose for various reasons not to join the protests. To be ultimately successful, the movement of the 99% must gain more support from the 99% of Americans they claim to represent.
In addition, to make changes within our current political system, the movement would be wise to make the distinction that they are protesting against policies which serve to protect the rich at the expense of the rest of us, not the rich themselves. Warren Buffett, who has come out against regressive tax policies, should serve as an example that the wealthiest 1% of Americans are not always the enemy.
The OWS movement does seem to be moving towards more mainstream acceptance, and is now publicly supported by a coalition of more than 70 liberal organizations, including MoveOn.org, several large labor unions, and Planned Parenthood, as well as hundreds of prominent and influential individuals. This could help to provide additional resources, legitimize the movement, and ultimately force a prioritization of demands.
It remains to be seen, however, whether the Occupy Wall Street movement will be able to have the electoral impact needed to achieve many of their stated goals. The Tea Party, a similarly ambitious and unfocused movement, was able to successfully attract candidates to run on a platform representing the movement, and to shift mainstream Republicans’ campaigns in an effort to please Tea Party constituents.
While the long-term impact of the OWS movement is still unclear, it has in many ways already been successful, primarily by starting to reframe the public discourse on inequality.
The top 1% of the individuals in the American economy take home 25% of total income, and own 40% of the wealth. Research has shown that most Americans support a much more equal distribution of resources, but are also optimistically ignorant of the level of inequality that currently exists. But this may be changing as more and more attention is drawn to the issue. The term “income inequality” is appearing more and more frequently in the media, rising from 90 mentions in the week before the protests started to nearly 500 by mid-November.
And while most Americans still think of the United States as a land of opportunity, a 2006 report from the Center for American Progress showed that among high-income countries, only the United Kingdom has a lower rate of intergenerational economic mobility than the United States. For example, children from low-income families in the US have only a 1% chance of reaching the top 5% of the income distribution, versus children of the rich, who have about a 22% chance of doing so. Simply bringing awareness to the current reality has the power to subtly change public opinion that may be based on rosier assumptions.
Getting Americans to understand current social and economic inequalities of opportunity would be an important accomplishment. Whether policies ultimately change to prevent them, however, will depend on whether the country as a whole decides that they no longer find them acceptable.
A student-run public policy blog of the Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs at Princeton University.
NOTE: The views expressed here belong to the individual contributors and not to Princeton University or the Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs.
Showing posts with label poverty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poverty. Show all posts
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Seeing Beyond Tomorrow: The scourge of extreme poverty and finally ending it
Ayokunle Abogan, MPA
Can we end extreme poverty within the next three decades?
This question was posed in an article I read while in Nigeria, my home country. In trying to answer it, I cannot help but view the problem from a personal angle. Herein I share Modupe’s story.
Modupe is a woman I met during a volunteer project created to eradicate poverty in Nigeria. She is a Nigerian woman, likely in her mid-thirties, although she can only guess. AIDS (contracted from her now-dead husband), poverty, and hunger have taken a devastating toll on her—she looks more like 60. Does Modupe worry whether her six children also have AIDS? No. She doesn’t have time to worry. She’s focused solely on daily survival. Her mother, who lives with her, needn’t worry about AIDS—she’s already dying of tuberculosis.
Modupe scavenges for scrap paper at the rubbish dump to sell to market vendors. If Modupe is lucky, she can make as much as 60 cents a day. When luckier, she finds discarded dregs of produce, meat and dairy. Most days Modupe is not lucky. She averages three to four meals in a week. Land surrounds her leaf-and-mud hut but the adjacent factory’s chemical wastes have rendered the land toxic, infertile. It doesn’t matter. Dying of AIDS, Modupe can barely scavenge, never mind farm, competing alongside scores of others scrabbling for scraps. They suffer, too.
I know Modupe. I know many like her. Too many.
Nearly 1.2 billion people worldwide—one-sixth of the world’s population—suffer from extreme poverty. No clean water, sanitation, or electricity. The numbers are staggering. Illiteracy ensures that they continue to suffer. Some regions with entrenched cycles of poverty, death, and inequity, helplessly pass them from one generation to another. In my continent, Africa, more than half of us live in extreme poverty. Come 2040, nearly 30 years from now, the world’s population is forecast to increase to 8.8 billion, with more than 70% living in so-called developing countries. If we can’t manage poverty now, how will we manage it then on such a greater scale?
To cite statistics here, however, is to intellectualize a crisis that one must feel viscerally. Ironically, society today is now inured to others’ pain while being simultaneously, due to technological advances, close enough to observe it. We witness yet remain detached, isolated. But if you experience directly what I have experienced, the more critical question becomes: “Can we really afford to wait 30 years?”
International organizations including the World Bank and the UN emphasize improving income levels. That doesn’t work. It benefits only a small percentage, the educated, who better grasp how to improve living standards. The illiterate do not.
Basic needs must be met first. How can people educate themselves if they don’t even have food or water? If disease is everywhere around them? Surviving today isn’t just a means to an end; it becomes the end itself. Resolving basic needs will then naturally segue into health services, education and improved housing.
These are the core necessities we must provide our starving brothers and sisters:
Modupe doesn’t have 30 years. Neither do we.
Can we end extreme poverty within the next three decades?
This question was posed in an article I read while in Nigeria, my home country. In trying to answer it, I cannot help but view the problem from a personal angle. Herein I share Modupe’s story.
Modupe is a woman I met during a volunteer project created to eradicate poverty in Nigeria. She is a Nigerian woman, likely in her mid-thirties, although she can only guess. AIDS (contracted from her now-dead husband), poverty, and hunger have taken a devastating toll on her—she looks more like 60. Does Modupe worry whether her six children also have AIDS? No. She doesn’t have time to worry. She’s focused solely on daily survival. Her mother, who lives with her, needn’t worry about AIDS—she’s already dying of tuberculosis.
Modupe scavenges for scrap paper at the rubbish dump to sell to market vendors. If Modupe is lucky, she can make as much as 60 cents a day. When luckier, she finds discarded dregs of produce, meat and dairy. Most days Modupe is not lucky. She averages three to four meals in a week. Land surrounds her leaf-and-mud hut but the adjacent factory’s chemical wastes have rendered the land toxic, infertile. It doesn’t matter. Dying of AIDS, Modupe can barely scavenge, never mind farm, competing alongside scores of others scrabbling for scraps. They suffer, too.
I know Modupe. I know many like her. Too many.
Nearly 1.2 billion people worldwide—one-sixth of the world’s population—suffer from extreme poverty. No clean water, sanitation, or electricity. The numbers are staggering. Illiteracy ensures that they continue to suffer. Some regions with entrenched cycles of poverty, death, and inequity, helplessly pass them from one generation to another. In my continent, Africa, more than half of us live in extreme poverty. Come 2040, nearly 30 years from now, the world’s population is forecast to increase to 8.8 billion, with more than 70% living in so-called developing countries. If we can’t manage poverty now, how will we manage it then on such a greater scale?
To cite statistics here, however, is to intellectualize a crisis that one must feel viscerally. Ironically, society today is now inured to others’ pain while being simultaneously, due to technological advances, close enough to observe it. We witness yet remain detached, isolated. But if you experience directly what I have experienced, the more critical question becomes: “Can we really afford to wait 30 years?”
International organizations including the World Bank and the UN emphasize improving income levels. That doesn’t work. It benefits only a small percentage, the educated, who better grasp how to improve living standards. The illiterate do not.
Basic needs must be met first. How can people educate themselves if they don’t even have food or water? If disease is everywhere around them? Surviving today isn’t just a means to an end; it becomes the end itself. Resolving basic needs will then naturally segue into health services, education and improved housing.
These are the core necessities we must provide our starving brothers and sisters:
- Enhanced food production. Food is fuel; we don’t run without it. Farmers comprise 60+ percent of the world’s extremely poor. Why not teach subsistence farming techniques for that 60 percent? A simple application of the “give a man a fish and he eats for a day; teach him to fish and he eats for a lifetime” philosophy. Governments must invest in responsible farming techniques, tools, storage, and irrigation, and also develop suitable transit of farm products to outlying marketplaces.
- Basic Infrastructure and Amenities. Clean water supply, electricity, and basic sanitation are taken for granted yet are all but unknown to the impoverished. The technology exists! Waste recycling, management, education and facilities will cut disease. Healthcare facilities decrease malaria and HIV/AIDS and preventable death. Rainwater harvesting, water wells, and hand pumps when appropriate, can provide additional water—substantial hours are spent daily traveling to obtain water; local water quality inspections limits typhoid and other water-related problems. Constructing micro-hydroelectric plants to boost electricity supply can funnel power to those outside centralized grid sources. Basic sanitation systems eradicate health risks, lessen water source pollution, and enhance human dignity.
- Education. In addition to lifestyle education, developing human capital leads to better jobs, wages, and living conditions. The educated make informed decisions concerning healthcare, reproduction, employment, and economic equality. Attendance at school until a legally-employable age, for men and women, and vocational training/skills improvement for adults lacking education are a must.
- Debt Relief. Developed countries not only consume most of the world’s resources but also have technology to improve their economies. With debt relief, struggling countries can focus their resources to address national poverty. Fluctuating food prices and high energy proces make it more difficult for poor people to afford enough food to eat. Food and energy represent 60 percent of impoverished household expenditure. Even the US, an affluent nation, has seen much of its middle and lower classes forced into poverty by rising food and energy costs while battling unemployment and foreclosure in an economic crisis. The Middle East continually faces riots due to spiraling food costs. Mitigating the devastating price swings and economic slowdowns in developing countries is critical.
Modupe doesn’t have 30 years. Neither do we.
Friday, September 23, 2011
"Randomized control trials" on trial: Evaluating the efficacy of RCTs
Jake Velker, MPA
Are randomized trials the way to finally start making a dent in reducing poverty, after years of hopeful thinking and disappointing results? Does this tool for evidence-based policymaking hold the key for practitioners to determine which poverty reduction programs work and which don’t? These questions motivate two recent books published by researchers who are at the vanguard of the randomized control trials (RCT) movement: More Than Good Intentions by Dean Karlan and Jacob Appel of Innovations for Poverty Action (IPA) and Poor Economics by Abhijit Banerjee and Esther Duflo of the Abdul Latif Jameel Poverty Action Lab (J-PAL). They deliberately introduce randomization in the implementation of anti-poverty measures to provide confidence in the programs’ efficacy (or lack thereof).
The results thus far have been dramatic and not always intuitive: microfinance is less effective than we hoped [1]; free bed nets are used more often (and prevent more malaria) than those that cost money.[2] IPA and J-PAL are currently involved in dozens of trials and are generally credited with bringing an unprecedented level of rigor to the evaluation of development—a field normally dominated by grand theories and polemics.
Enough praise has been heaped on the “randomistas” that I feel confident I can focus on the criticisms of their methodology without sounding uncharitable.[3]
The first criticism—leveled forcefully by Princeton’s Angus Deaton—is that randomized trials do not help us in any systematic way to gain an understanding of why interventions work.[4] In this sense, IPA and J-PAL are part of a broader trend in economic research that eschews theory in favor of real-world applications and problem-solving. This is irksome for many economists, particularly those who believe that poverty cannot be solved without a broader accounting of the mechanisms that keep people trapped in poverty. Randomized trials are beginning to test theoretical frameworks more directly, but there is still much progress to be made.
The most relevant criticism, however, is political. IPA and J-PAL economists have been accused of ignoring the institutional constraints against which their interventions would inevitably contend if scaled up. Often, research from randomized trials offers a conclusion like “we find that intervention X lowers Y disease transmission by Z percent.” While it is extremely helpful to have confidence in the efficacy of a treatment, glaring questions remain. Does the program work when it is implemented by a weak bureaucracy, rather than university-trained researchers? At scale, who will be responsible for administering the recommended program? What are their incentives to perform? Where will the money come from? If the intervention is so successful, were there good reasons it wasn’t tried before?
A troubling case in point involves one of the most heralded studies from the RCT movement to date. Working in Kenya, economists Michael Kremer and Ted Miguel found that providing de-worming medicine to students boosted school attendance cost-effectively.[5] Spurred by their research, the Kenyan government committed to making de-worming medicine available to more than 3,000,000 of its primary school children in 2009. But the policy was recently discontinued due to a dispute between the Kenyan government and international donors over corruption and the administration of education funding.[6] It should go without saying that for the ultra-poor, these sorts of bureaucratic obstacles are the norm, rather than the exception.
If economics is just supply and demand, the work of IPA and J-PAL has focused thus far mostly on demand. It is difficult to quantitatively study governance—imagine what an RCT studying a poor country’s provincial governance, for example, might look like—and even harder to actually improve the quality of basic services in developing countries. So many of the interventions RCTs have found to be effective involve classic public goods, which by definition remain under-provisioned by private markets. But the bureaucracies of developing countries are generally ineffective, if not downright corrupt. This is where economics loses its relevance and institutions and leadership rear their ugly heads.
These problems have not been amenable to ever-more creative randomized trials. In fact, many of the most celebrated finds of the RCT movement are relative “no-brainers.” Who, after all, would argue against treating poor school children for intestinal worms? Esther Duflo and her colleagues have said that we do not know what works. Many would respond that we know perfectly well what works; but do not know how to do it. Perhaps the real questions start once an intervention has been proven to work.
Randomistas respond to this critique as follows. First, it was never their ambition to overhaul the political economy of the developing world. The fact that they have found real evidence of effective interventions is in itself a major accomplishment. They believe that their approach can improve lives even in discouraging political settings. They are not promising a sweeping social revolution, but rather a “quiet revolution” of incremental gains. And even critics will concede that though the modesty of this approach may be unsatisfying, it is nonetheless an improvement on the empty promises all too frequent in the development world.
------------------------
References
[1] Abhijit Banerjeey, Esther Duflo, Rachel Glennerster, and Cynthia Kinnan, “The miracle of microfinance? Evidence from a randomized evaluation,” Working Paper (unpublished), May 2009.
[2] Jessica Cohen and Pascaline Dupas, “Free Distribution or Cost-Sharing? Evidence from a Randomized Malaria Prevention Experiment,” Quarterly Journal of Economics, Vol. 125:1, 2010.
[3] For examples of such praise, see: Ian Parker, “The Poverty Lab: Transforming development economics, one experiment at a time,” New Yorker, May 2010; James Crabtree, “Attested Development,” Financial Times, April 2011; William Easterly, “Measuring How and Why Aid Works – or Doesn’t,” Wall Street Journal, April 2011; Ben Goldacre, “How can you tell if a policy is working? Run a trial,” The Guardian, May 2011; and Nicholas Kristof, “Getting Smart on Aid,” New York Times, May 2011.
[4] Angus Deaton, “Instruments, Randomization, and Learning about Development,” Journal of Economic Literature, Vol. 48:2, June 2010.
[5] Edward Miguel and Michael Kremer, “Worms: Identifying Impacts on Education and Health in the Presence of Treatment Externalities,” Econometrica, Vol. 72: 1, January 2004.
[6] Justin Sandefur, “Held Hostage: Funding for a Proven Success in Global Development on Hold in Kenya,” Global Development: Views from the Center blog, Center for Global Development, April 2011.
Are randomized trials the way to finally start making a dent in reducing poverty, after years of hopeful thinking and disappointing results? Does this tool for evidence-based policymaking hold the key for practitioners to determine which poverty reduction programs work and which don’t? These questions motivate two recent books published by researchers who are at the vanguard of the randomized control trials (RCT) movement: More Than Good Intentions by Dean Karlan and Jacob Appel of Innovations for Poverty Action (IPA) and Poor Economics by Abhijit Banerjee and Esther Duflo of the Abdul Latif Jameel Poverty Action Lab (J-PAL). They deliberately introduce randomization in the implementation of anti-poverty measures to provide confidence in the programs’ efficacy (or lack thereof).
The results thus far have been dramatic and not always intuitive: microfinance is less effective than we hoped [1]; free bed nets are used more often (and prevent more malaria) than those that cost money.[2] IPA and J-PAL are currently involved in dozens of trials and are generally credited with bringing an unprecedented level of rigor to the evaluation of development—a field normally dominated by grand theories and polemics.
Enough praise has been heaped on the “randomistas” that I feel confident I can focus on the criticisms of their methodology without sounding uncharitable.[3]
The first criticism—leveled forcefully by Princeton’s Angus Deaton—is that randomized trials do not help us in any systematic way to gain an understanding of why interventions work.[4] In this sense, IPA and J-PAL are part of a broader trend in economic research that eschews theory in favor of real-world applications and problem-solving. This is irksome for many economists, particularly those who believe that poverty cannot be solved without a broader accounting of the mechanisms that keep people trapped in poverty. Randomized trials are beginning to test theoretical frameworks more directly, but there is still much progress to be made.
The most relevant criticism, however, is political. IPA and J-PAL economists have been accused of ignoring the institutional constraints against which their interventions would inevitably contend if scaled up. Often, research from randomized trials offers a conclusion like “we find that intervention X lowers Y disease transmission by Z percent.” While it is extremely helpful to have confidence in the efficacy of a treatment, glaring questions remain. Does the program work when it is implemented by a weak bureaucracy, rather than university-trained researchers? At scale, who will be responsible for administering the recommended program? What are their incentives to perform? Where will the money come from? If the intervention is so successful, were there good reasons it wasn’t tried before?
A troubling case in point involves one of the most heralded studies from the RCT movement to date. Working in Kenya, economists Michael Kremer and Ted Miguel found that providing de-worming medicine to students boosted school attendance cost-effectively.[5] Spurred by their research, the Kenyan government committed to making de-worming medicine available to more than 3,000,000 of its primary school children in 2009. But the policy was recently discontinued due to a dispute between the Kenyan government and international donors over corruption and the administration of education funding.[6] It should go without saying that for the ultra-poor, these sorts of bureaucratic obstacles are the norm, rather than the exception.
If economics is just supply and demand, the work of IPA and J-PAL has focused thus far mostly on demand. It is difficult to quantitatively study governance—imagine what an RCT studying a poor country’s provincial governance, for example, might look like—and even harder to actually improve the quality of basic services in developing countries. So many of the interventions RCTs have found to be effective involve classic public goods, which by definition remain under-provisioned by private markets. But the bureaucracies of developing countries are generally ineffective, if not downright corrupt. This is where economics loses its relevance and institutions and leadership rear their ugly heads.
These problems have not been amenable to ever-more creative randomized trials. In fact, many of the most celebrated finds of the RCT movement are relative “no-brainers.” Who, after all, would argue against treating poor school children for intestinal worms? Esther Duflo and her colleagues have said that we do not know what works. Many would respond that we know perfectly well what works; but do not know how to do it. Perhaps the real questions start once an intervention has been proven to work.
Randomistas respond to this critique as follows. First, it was never their ambition to overhaul the political economy of the developing world. The fact that they have found real evidence of effective interventions is in itself a major accomplishment. They believe that their approach can improve lives even in discouraging political settings. They are not promising a sweeping social revolution, but rather a “quiet revolution” of incremental gains. And even critics will concede that though the modesty of this approach may be unsatisfying, it is nonetheless an improvement on the empty promises all too frequent in the development world.
------------------------
References
[1] Abhijit Banerjeey, Esther Duflo, Rachel Glennerster, and Cynthia Kinnan, “The miracle of microfinance? Evidence from a randomized evaluation,” Working Paper (unpublished), May 2009.
[2] Jessica Cohen and Pascaline Dupas, “Free Distribution or Cost-Sharing? Evidence from a Randomized Malaria Prevention Experiment,” Quarterly Journal of Economics, Vol. 125:1, 2010.
[3] For examples of such praise, see: Ian Parker, “The Poverty Lab: Transforming development economics, one experiment at a time,” New Yorker, May 2010; James Crabtree, “Attested Development,” Financial Times, April 2011; William Easterly, “Measuring How and Why Aid Works – or Doesn’t,” Wall Street Journal, April 2011; Ben Goldacre, “How can you tell if a policy is working? Run a trial,” The Guardian, May 2011; and Nicholas Kristof, “Getting Smart on Aid,” New York Times, May 2011.
[4] Angus Deaton, “Instruments, Randomization, and Learning about Development,” Journal of Economic Literature, Vol. 48:2, June 2010.
[5] Edward Miguel and Michael Kremer, “Worms: Identifying Impacts on Education and Health in the Presence of Treatment Externalities,” Econometrica, Vol. 72: 1, January 2004.
[6] Justin Sandefur, “Held Hostage: Funding for a Proven Success in Global Development on Hold in Kenya,” Global Development: Views from the Center blog, Center for Global Development, April 2011.
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