Sunday, 30 December 2018

What a bunch of Oxymorons in international social protection!


The original version of this blog appeared on Development Pathways

Let me begin by clarifying that an oxymoron is not some kind of bovine nincompoop. An oxymoron defines a phrase that is inherently self-contradictory. The word itself is a good example, deriving as it does from two contradictory Greek words: ὀξύς (oxys), which means sharp or clever, and μῶρος (moros), which means slow or foolish (as in our modern-day “moron”).

Modern usage of the English language is peppered with examples of oxymorons, such as “same difference”, “awfully good”, “deafening silence”, “painfully beautiful”, “open secret”, “oddly normal”, “old news” or “bittersweet”. There are also some splendid examples from the literature, such as Lamb’s “[a smuggler] is the only honest thief”, Shakespeare’s “parting is such sweet sorrow”, Andy Warhol’s “I am a deeply superficial person”, or Tennyson’s double-whammy of “faith unfaithful kept him falsely true”.

Another strand of so-called rhetorical oxymorons can be interpreted more cynically: these would include “Government organisation”, “American history”, “military intelligence” and “Microsoft Works” (or perhaps “public works”). Some might add “Merry Christmas” and “happily married” to this list!).

Unfortunately, the kind of social protection that is commonly peddled by international practitioners is similarly riddled with oxymorons. Some have been around for a while:

  •  Productive safety nets” – such safety nets, traditionally in the form of enforced public works programmes, are not the slightest bit productive when they compel malnourished women to abandon their children to toil for a meagre wage that barely compensates the energy they have to expend.
  •  Conditional social protection” – social protection is not social protection if it can be arbitrarily retracted as a result of a failure to comply with conditions, thereby throwing families into extreme poverty.
  • Graduation from poverty” – a bizarre concept that suggests people can definitively emerge from poverty, as if with a university degree, and no longer require access to social protection.

Probably the most enduring example of an oxymoron in the social protection lexicon is the concept of “poverty-targeting”, which Stephen Kidd has highlighted in a couple of recent blogs (see here). This is inherently self-contradictory at two levels. First, it is linguistically conflictual, apposing a verb that implies high precision (“to target”) to a concept that is totally amorphous (“poverty”). You can no more “target poverty” than you can “measure clouds” or “match waves”. Second it is conceptually deceitful, because – as Stephen has pointed out – it is actually a smokescreen to disguise the fact that its primary objective is to diminish expenditure on social protection, to the detriment of those living in “poverty” who it is ostensibly “targeting”.

Now a new example seems to be creeping into the lexicon: “progressive universalism” – see for example the 2019 World Development Report, which states “A guiding principle for strengthening social assistance is progressive universalism.”. This is slightly moronic, as well as oxymoronic, because “universalism” is usually reserved for the belief, in Christian theology, that all humankind will ultimately be saved through divine grace. Rather than “universalism”, the more common term for something that is “shared by all people or things in the world or in a particular group” is “universality”. But, in either case, the crucial defining component of something that is “universal” is that it is shared by all. It cannot therefore be progressive, which implies that – at least for some time – it will only be shared by some. “Progressive universality” is a bit like talking about “partial infinity”, “the larger half”, “slightly unique” or “nearly whole”. There is a danger that advocates of such “progressive universality” (as it should be) in social protection do not actually want to “progress” at all: they want to continue with their minimalist poverty-targeted approaches, while paying token lip-service to the concept of “universality” that they have in fact signed up to.

The idiot savants who practice such verbal dexterity are clearly confused, so, before this gets us into another fine mess, we should all agree to stand down from the use of oxymorons in social protection.

Happy New Year…and let’s universally resolve not to make that oxymoronic for those in need of effective social protection!

Monday, 26 March 2018

Social Protection through the Looking Glass: Lewis Carroll’s parable for the unwary


The original version of this blog appeared on Development Pathways

What can a 19th Century work of literary nonsense teach us about global social protection debates? To mark April Fools’ Day, I would suggest that Lewis Carroll’s work The Walrus and the Carpenter can tell us more more about prevailing dogmas in the sector than you might imagine!

Lewis Carroll (aka Charles Lutwidge Dodgson) was a master of the art of literary nonsense. His major works include Alice in Wonderland and its sequel, Through the Looking Glass. One of the highlights of the latter work is a splendid poem, recounted to Alice by the tubby twins Tweedledum and Tweedledee, called The Walrus and the Carpenter. The poem tells the story of the two eponymous characters walking along a beach, finding a bed of oysters and persuading the younger oysters to follow them. It ends with the Walrus and the Carpenter eating all the oysters!

Critics have struggled to understand the deeper meaning of the poem ever since it was published in 1871. Many explanations have been offered. Some have suggested that the Carpenter is a caricature of Jesus Christ and the Walrus a caricature of Peter (or Buddha in another version), with the oysters as their disciples. Others have argued that the narrative is a critique of colonialisation, with the two protagonists representing the Empire and the oysters its colonies. Even J.B. Priestley has weighed into the debate, suggesting that the Walrus and the Carpenter were instead archetypes of two different types of British politician.

But I would like to suggest a new thesis: that it is an allegory of today’s social protection debates. On this basis, the Walrus and the Carpenter are the World Bank and the IMF respectively, the beach signifies the problem of global poverty, and the oysters represent national initiatives towards inclusive social protection. Let’s look at this in detail through some key verses. After three stanzas of scene-setting, we are introduced to the main characters:

“The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
If this were only cleared away,’
They said, it would be grand!”

Here we see the two institutions surveying the extent of the problem of global poverty and wishing that it could be reduced. Presumably the Walrus has been used to denote the World Bank because of the consonance between their initial syllables; the Carpenter (i.e. a wood-worker) is clearly linked to the fact that the IMF was created at Bretton Woods (and the two organisations indeed continue to be known as the Bretton Woods Institutions).

Next, having expressed their desire to reduce poverty, we come to a crucial stanza where they opine how this might be achieved:

“If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,’ the Walrus said,
That they could get it clear?’
I doubt it,’ said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.”

Immediately, the two institutions present a possible – but in reality, totally inappropriate – social protection solution to reducing the extent of global poverty. Interestingly, their default reaction, just as it is today, is towards a public works approach. And, as in many modern-day instances (think Ethiopia, Bangladesh, Zimbabwe), the proposed works are far from productive: using unsuitable tools (in this case mops) to sweep sand on a beach. Even more damaging (and again as is often the case today), they propose that it should be women who undertake this back-breaking work, thereby adding to their domestic burdens, and jeopardising the health and education of their children. The significance of the number of maids – seven – is presumably a reference to the seven key features of the blueprint World Bank approach to social protection, involving as it does a mix of: (i) poverty-targeting, (ii) an anti-social registry, (iii) proxy means testing, (iv) conditionality, (v) public works (vi) graduation, and (vii) an exit strategy.

“O Oysters, come and walk with us!’
The Walrus did beseech.
A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.”

In this next verse, the World Bank issues its enticing lure to the “oysters”, in other words to developing country governments wanting to invest in social protection: accept our package, and in exchange there will be cheap loans a-plenty and we will be there to lend a hand to each of you in designing your social protection system (in just the fashion we want it)!

“The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head —
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.”

In this, my favourite stanza, the wise old oyster resists the siren call of the Bretton Woods package. He knows that, given time, the nascent national solution focused on inclusive lifecycle schemes is a better option: it will generate popular appeal, political energy and fiscal space, and it might – like an oyster – even create a domestic pearl that will endure for the long haul. Think of these prudent sages as countries such as Lesotho, Nepal, Mongolia.

“But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat —
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn’t any feet.
Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more —
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.”

In contrast to the wise old sages, we see in these next two verses that many countries cannot resist the temptation of the Bretton Woods package: think Malawi, Liberia, Mali, Zimbabwe in Africa and Indonesia, Pakistan, Bangladesh and the Philippines in Asia (since they should come in groups of four). They are “all eager for the treat”, and have no idea what is in store for them…

These ingenues unwittingly walk a mile along the beach with the predators, and sit down on a “rock, conveniently low”.

“The time has come,’ the Walrus said,
To talk of many things:
Of loans — and shocks — and safety nets —
Of conditions — and of strings —
Why PMT is worth a shot —
And whether pigs have wings.”

Okay, I admit that I have made some minor adaptations to this particular verse, to contextualise it and bring it up to date. The original is concerned with typically nineteenth-century social issues, “of shoes – and ships – and sealing wax – of cabbages – and kings”. But, whilst the overall attitude of the Bretton Woods Institutions remains firmly embedded in the nineteenth-century worldview of poor relief and workfare, the terms of the debate have inevitably evolved over time. So I have tried to reflect some of the contemporary obsessions of the World Bank in today’s social protection debate, while remaining true to the spirit of the Carrollian original.

The protagonists duly have their “chat”; then, a few stanzas later, we move to the grisly denouement:

“I weep for you,’ the Walrus said:
I deeply sympathise.’
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
O Oysters,’ said the Carpenter,
You’ve had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?’
But answer came there none —
And this was scarcely odd, because
They’d eaten every one.”

So, as the moral of this disturbing fable for today’s social protection debates, I borrow the warning from another presumed characterisation of the World Bank and the IMF in Through the Looking Glass: Beware the Jabberwock, my son, … and shun the frumious Bandersnatch! After their talk, the hypocritical Walrus sorts the oysters by size and devours them, all the while crying crocodile tears (to mix my animal metaphors!). At the end of the process, the only survivors are the World Bank and the IMF themselves, and no sustainable national social protection systems remain for those countries who chose to follow their advice: just like in real life!

Tuesday, 23 January 2018

Poverty-targeting: the social protection flaw?

The original version of this blog appeared as a Pathways Perspective on Development Pathways

As we start 2018, please may I have the temerity to suggest a common New Year’s resolution for all of us, as a social protection community: that we stop, definitively, the promotion of poverty-targeted approaches?


There are many, many disadvantages of poverty-targeting; and even its one supposed advantage – that it is cheap – is illusory, because low-cost social protection delivers few of the social, economic and political benefits that result from higher levels of investment. As with all things in life, you get what you pay for. Benjamin Franklin, a believer in egalitarian democracy, observed: “The bitterness of poor quality remains long after the sweetness of low price is forgotten”. And who really wants to be associated with something as tawdry as poverty-targeting?

Here are some of its many drawbacks:

·       It is impossible to do. First, of course, it is impossible to accurately identify the “poorest”, especially in contexts where the majority of the population live on low incomes. The charade that you can accurately measure and compare the poverty of different households is manifestly absurd, as has been frequently documented. We should all, at the very least, be open and honest that approaches to targeting on the basis of poverty (whether community-based or proxy means tested) are simply rationing mechanisms; and, in the case of the proxy means test, are as arbitrary as a lottery.

·       It adds cost and complexity. Even if a semblance of accuracy were possible at a given point in time, it is prohibitively expensive and complicated to maintain up-to-date information on comparative destitution, especially in countries where incomes are highly dynamic. In all low- and middle-income countries, a substantial proportion of the population moves in and out of poverty on a seasonal or annual basis. It is fanciful to think that a metric collected one year will have any validity in one year’s, three years’, or five years’ time.

·       It damages social cohesion. Because the outcomes are so random and unintuitive, poverty-targeting that chooses one household and excludes a nearly-identical neighbour will inevitably create jealousies and social tensions.

·       It is inequitable. In situations where many people are equally poor, to give an arbitrary selection of them a comparatively significant benefit will catapult the lucky few into a higher wealth category than the unlucky many. The “have-nots” will become the “haves” and will remain better off than the new “have-nots” until eventual re-targeting…when the iniquitous yo-yo will reverse.

·       It creates perverse incentives. As soon as people understand that they will only remain beneficiaries of a programme if they meet certain criteria of deprivation, they will be faced with the perverse choice between remaining poor and continuing to receive the benefit, or bettering themselves and losing it. Why pour a concrete floor, put a tin roof on your house, or save for your old age if, by doing so, you will be excluded from State benefits?

·       It rewards dishonesty. Again, with a growing understanding of the system, some people will be tempted to game it: they may borrow extra children from neighbours, feign disability, hide assets, or deny ownership of small livestock. The result is that dishonesty is rewarded and honesty penalised, which is damaging to the moral fabric of society.

·       It incites patronage. Giving anyone the discretion to influence the choice of beneficiaries for a programme puts that person in a position of power. This opens the door to abuse, patronage or exploitation. Even where such temptation is resisted, there may nonetheless be a perception of patronage, which again jeopardises the social compact.

·       It stigmatises. Poverty-targeting demeans programme beneficiaries, the polar opposite of the desired effect of social protection, which is to include and dignify. Posting the names of beneficiaries on walls, for example, or announcing them in public, has the effect of stigmatising vulnerable people, not empowering them.

But these defects, while egregious, are not the real issue. If you were an insensitive, extravagant, patronising bigot who didn’t care about dignity, ethics or equity, you could probably live with them. The real problem is the wider impact of such deficiencies on political support for social protection. National politicians shy away from poverty-targeted interventions. I challenge you to name one such programme that has led to an adequate – and sustainable – fiscal commitment to social protection, or has increased the real value of its transfers to beneficiaries over time.

Poverty-targeted programmes never become entitlements. As a result, they never generate popular demand (except among a voiceless minority) and, in consequence, they never gain political traction. Therefore, they never generate adequate domestic fiscal space for improved social protection.

Let’s look at a few examples: first, the much-vaunted – but poverty-targeted – Pantawid Pamilyang Pilipino Program (4Ps) in the Philippines. Figure 1 shows the evolution of the real value of the transfer since 2007: ever downwards. Worse still, as a result of this 32 per cent reduction over ten years, recent research by the World Bank has shown that some recipient children are now obliged to work to cover the costs of attending school in order to avoid being sanctioned or excluded from the programme.

Figure 1: Real value of the Philippines 4Ps transfer


Next, let’s look at a telling comparison between Malawi’s Social Cash Transfer (SCT) and Lesotho’s Old Age Pension (OAP). Both programmes started at around the same time and in response to the same problem: the ravages of HIV/AIDS. But Malawi’s was poverty-targeted, based on the (baseless) “10 per cent labour-constrained ultra-poor”, while Lesotho’s was near-universal, targeting all citizens once they reached the age of 70 years. Malawi’s has remained externally-driven, and is still – fifteen years on – more than 90 per cent funded by donors. Lesotho’s is (and has always been) fully domestically-funded and is very much part of the political landscape, with recent elections having been won and lost on competing pledges to increase the value of the transfer. As Figure 2 shows, the very different trends in the real value of the respective transfers is indicative of the difference between an inclusive “social protection floor” and a poverty-targeted “social protection flaw.”

Figure 2: Comparison between the real value of transfers in Lesotho’s OAP and Malawi’s SCT


Finally, look at the evolution in Zambia’s Social Cash Transfer scheme. Originally, like Malawi’s, this was tightly poverty-targeted at the “non-viable” poorest 10 per cent. For its first ten years it was almost exclusively donor-funded, and gained no attention from local politicians. It drifted unconvincingly, expanding from one district to five, then to eleven; from 1,000 households to 8,000, then to 24,000. But at this point (see Figure 3) it started experimenting with different categorical targeting approaches. Suddenly, politicians sat up and took notice…and domestic funding started to flow. In the five years since 2012, it has become essentially a near-universal old-age and disability pension…and it has expanded exponentially: to nearly 600,000 households in all 108 districts of the country. Donor funding has barely increased: the cost of the expansion has come from domestic resources.

Figure 3: Changes in coverage of Zambia’s Social Cash Transfer scheme


What we are striving for, as social protection practitioners, is programmes that are based on entitlement, that generate increased domestic funding, and that maintain (or even raise) the value of their benefits to the poor and vulnerable over time. We are not going to get this from poverty-targeting. So please can we make a common resolution to promote only inclusive approaches in 2018?




Come on and open up your heart!

  This blog originally appeared on Development Pathways I very much enjoyed Stephen Kidd’s humble and courageous admission that he is a refo...