Impact Interviews

Promoting direct positive impact on global poverty is at the core of the ASAP mission. Our Impact Interviews aim to share information and best practices from academic efforts to influence poverty policy and civil society around the world, as a series of free online interviews and articles which explore the how-tos of promoting such impact. They can be both theoretical, exploring ways to conceptualize positive impact, and practical, offering compelling narratives about academics who have achieved positive impact through policy consultations, civil society campaigns and on-the-ground interventions.

The Impact series is intended to inform and stimulate dialogue around ways in which academics have and can positively influence poverty. We would welcome suggestions for other individuals or academic groups or teams to profile. If you would like to nominate impact-oriented academics, please contact us.

Impact Interview: Harvey Rubin

2013-06-05 By ASAP Global

In this article, Sumaiyah Moolla interviews Professor Harvey Rubin, Perelman School of Medicine, University of Pennsylvania. Read more of our Impact Interviews.

Here’s a shocking statistic: 2.5 million children under the age of five continue to die each year from vaccine-preventable diseases. Vaccines are available, but lack of infrastructure often prevents them from reaching the remote and impoverished communities that need them most.

A new initiative pioneered by the non-profit organization Energize the Chain could hold the key to reducing this number dramatically and preventing needless deaths. The idea: use electricity from mobile phone masts to run vaccine refrigerators at sites in remote areas. ASAP spoke to the director of Energize the Chain, Dr Harvey Rubin of the University of Pennsylvania.

“Just imagine a kid who’s suffering from a vaccine-preventable disease; just to be able to impact this kid’s life – to keep him or her at home or in school, to keep the mother from worrying about taking her kid to a doctor in a remote health clinic – the day-to-day ripple effect is enormous. These kids are the most vulnerable in the world. To be able to do something for them has really motivated everybody involved in this project,” said Rubin, professor of medicine and director of the Institute for Strategic Threat Analysis and Response at Penn.

The project had its genesis in the aftermath of the 2010 earthquake in Haiti. Rubin received a late-night phone call from an actor-friend and neighbor, David Morse, a veteran of film and television whose credits include The Green Mile, 12 Monkeys and the medical series House. Shocked by the scenes of devastation and suffering circulating in the media – particularly, images of a young boy dying of diphtheria – Morse was compelled to call Rubin and question why children were dying of what is a vaccine-preventable disease.

“I told David that we have the vaccines, but the infrastructure to keep them cold has been destroyed,” recalls Rubin. “It’s something we call the cold chain”. Vaccines remain viable only as long as they are kept refrigerated at the correct temperature. Any break in the ‘cold chain’ – from manufacture all the way through to administration – leaves the vaccines vulnerable to spoliation. Between 25 and 40 percent of vaccines spoil during the transportation process. “David said, ‘So, go solve the cold chain problem’,” chuckles Rubin. “So we started thinking about it”.

Zimbabwe cell tower — Cell tower in Zimbabwe’s Masvingo Province.

The solution that Rubin and his colleagues pioneered is the idea of siphoning electricity from mobile phone masts in order to run vaccine refrigerators. This is made possible by the fact that mobile phone technology is spreading rapidly – there is expected to be 100 percent global coverage by 2015. “There’s plenty of electricity in the developing world because of cell towers,” Rubin said. “In the developing world the [mobile phone] industry is growing even more rapidly than in the developed world because we’re basically saturated here. These are private corporations which are either on the national grid or they have diesel, solar or wind backup, but their whole business model of providing cell phone coverage in the most remote parts of the world depends on having energy.”

Rubin and his colleague Alice Conant published a paper in New Scientist floating the idea. “We wrote that paper, people read it, we got invited to give talks around the world and, lo and behold, it’s actually happening.” From there, the idea snowballed. Rubin was invited to speak at a conference of mobile phone mast owners, operators and suppliers in Kenya. In the audience was Bernard Fernandes, a representative of Econet – a telecoms provider in Zimbabwe – who was so impressed by the idea that on returning home, he took it straight to Econet’s CEO, who greenlighted a pilot project which now runs on sites all across the country:

“Bernard was the local champion, the local hero,” Rubin beams. “He got his engineers to design it, he reached out to the public health service in Zimbabwe and he ran with it — which is exactly how we want it to happen. We want people to take this on as their mission, and Bernard is a perfect example of how this could lead to really wonderful things.” The feedback from the Zimbabwe project is encouraging: “We’ve heard it’s making a huge impact already. We would now love to do an academic study to measure the health impact of this solution, to get the hard data to really prove that this solution is one that can be rolled out globally and really make a health impact.”

Rubin’s ambition is for the initiative to be rolled out across the world via locally owned, locally run programs. There are discussions around launching similar projects in Kenya, Nigeria and Argentina, and an Indian launch is imminent. Karuna Trust, which runs a number of health clinics in the Karnataka region, is committed as the Indian health service partner; Indus Towers, which operates more than one million masts across the country, and Vodafone are on board from the telecoms side. Conant is due to visit India in the summer of 2013 to solidify the arrangements.

While there are plenty of countries interested in implementing this initiative, Rubin acknowledges “our real limitation is the human resource.” As the technology expands in the future, Rubin envisions a super-efficient system made possible by the central connectivity of masts: “Once we put ID tags and remote sensing in the refrigerators, we’ll be able to conduct real-time inventory control – we’ll know which fridge is running low on which vaccines. That way the healthcare worker doesn’t have to carry vaccines that don’t need to be replaced. We’ll be able to say, ‘Go to this location and replenish it with X vaccine.'”

A persistent challenge to implementation, Rubin observes, is cementing successful public-private partnerships between the telecoms industry and ministries of health, which are regulated by local governments. “The hard part is getting the partners to sit down with each other and sign memorandums of understanding,” he said. “The real issue is that the health ministries want to be sure that the cell towers are there for the long term – they don’t want to change their processes and procedures if the cell towers are there only while a particular CEO or champion is there. Likewise, the cell tower companies want to be sure that the health ministry is there for the long term. So this is a lot about educating both sides, so the public-private partnership can work even when we’re not there. And that’s because these are two industries, two segments of the economy that generally don’t speak to each other. When they realise that they both have so much to gain, they generally come together.”

The political component of this initiative is certainly important. There are several issues to consider: who pays for new vaccines? Who pays for distribution? “If we expand the cold chain and make it much more efficient, new polices will have to come into play,” muses Rubin.

So what’s in it for the telecoms companies? “The cell tower operators gain a lot by it: they gain great recognition in the remote villages and [compliance with] corporate social responsibility. They all want to do something that benefits the communities that they serve, and when they are presented with the idea that this could help the communities and in fact doesn’t cost that much – we calculated that in India it costs just [US] 60 cents per day to run one of these refrigerators – I think once the cell tower companies understand the economics, they’re more than willing to be on board, so I’m hoping that this is something that most cell tower companies will embrace. The one thing I really want to do is not put too much burden on the telecoms companies – it’s great that they’re providing the energy, but I don’t think it’s necessarily their job to replace or augment the healthcare industry.”

It might seem strange that very poor communities will have extremely limited public health infrastructures but a highly developed telecoms industry. While Rubin is careful not to pass judgement on the failures of local government when it comes to infrastructure, he concentrates on the fact that this initiative can help to address how to best use the often minimal infrastructure that is in place: “Our solution makes it much more efficient to distribute vaccines, so that even with a less-developed health infrastructure, because the towers are remotely placed – we don’t rely on every step along the cold chain to have somebody responsible for them – we can maximally use the minimal health infrastructure that’s in place. Part of this whole process is educating people. We need to help educate people on how to use the solution, how to use the health infrastructure effectively. How do we really make that balance?”

When quizzed on whether local governments should make it mandatory for the granting of planning permission for telecoms companies to install vaccine fridges at mast sites, Rubin is cautious, but optimistic: “That would be ideal. Wouldn’t that be great if that happened? I don’t know enough about local regulations, but I can certainly see how telecoms companies could get tax or licensing benefits if they agreed to put this in place.”

Regardless of the initial enthusiasm, with so many parties and components involved, there must have been several obstacles in getting the initiative off the ground. “The biggest obstacle is the human interaction. The only obstacle we’ve found is the two different sides – the public and the private – getting comfortable with each other. The technology is very easy – there’s no new technology that we have to put in place; the cost is minimal. The interesting part of this solution is the human relations. Again, once people realise that it’s not going to cost them a lot of money, that the health ministry will be able to use [the resources] very effectively, people say, “Yes, this is a great solution – we all win”. Most importantly, the children win. And that’s really what we’re in it for.”

And what would Rubin say to the skeptics? “A pandemic is not going to start on Broadway and 42nd Street in Manhattan or Piccadilly Circus [London]; a pandemic is going to start somewhere in a remote part of the world. We have to be able to get vaccines to that part of the world. Having the ability to keep vaccines cold and the cold chain in tact is going to protect everybody. We try and make the case that this is good for the developing world, but in fact if you want to step back and look at the global picture, it’s really important to make sure that if something really starts happening in the developing world, that we – as the developed world – can get vaccines and know that they will be delivered effectively, efficiently and safely. This [solution] stands alone: this is good for children under the age of five in the developing world, but when some of the bureaucrats in the developed world say ‘What do I care about that?’ I say, ‘It could be you that’s going to be affected down the line somewhere.’ And then they stop and think maybe that’s important.”

Can Rubin envisage a world free of vaccine-preventable deaths? “No vaccine is 100 percent [effective], but I can foresee many, many, many fewer deaths. Measles and polio are tremendously important diseases to prevent. No vaccine is 100 percent, but even if it’s 80 percent to 90 percent, we’d make an enormous impact.”

Rubin was slated to take part in a UNICEF-hosted meeting in June aimed at bringing together all the partners (including telecoms companies, the pharmaceutical industry, health ministries, courier companies, energy companies and parties from the remote-sensing world) interested in this initiative in order to consider how to roll it out globally. He was hopeful about possibilities from that meeting and moving forward.

He ended on a thought-provoking note: “Who knows? Maybe eventually we’ll have an HIV or malaria vaccine; [using this initiative] they’ll all be able to be given safely across the globe. The impact would be enormous.”

Impact Interview: Fred Carden

2013-05-15 By ASAP Global

In this article, Luis Cabrera interviews Fred Carden. Read more of our Impact Interviews.

When it comes to influencing government anti-poverty efforts, the policy climate matters, Fred Carden notes, but so does a researcher’s focus on actually having an impact.

“If you’re not trying to do it you are not very likely to do it,” said Carden, who heads evaluation and impact efforts at the Canadian government-sponsored International Development Research Centre (IDRC) in Ottawa. “People are often not very intentional. They want to address poverty but they don’t have a clear intent about what they want to do.”

Carden led team efforts to assess policy influence in 23 IDRC-sponsored research studies in developing countries worldwide. The findings were presented in his book, Knowledge to Policy: Making the Most of Development Research (Sage, 2009), and he has continued to refine the framework.

Key Impact Variables

Carden’s overall conclusion, from the case studies and subsequent work, is that two sets of contextual variables are crucial in determining whether impact-minded researchers will be able to influence policy outcomes. These are:

General Context: This includes a government’s actual capacity to apply research findings, the stability of decision-making institutions, how centralized governance is in the country. It also includes general economic conditions, and whether a country is in crisis or otherwise undergoing a dramatic transition, which can open opportunities for influence.

Decision Context. Here, the key is government appetite for research. In descending order of interest, Carden found situations in the case studies of clear demand from government, demand but a leadership gap in realizing it, and demand but a lack of resources to act on it. In a number of cases, he found great interest from researchers in sharing new findings, but small interest from policy makers. In some cases there was open hostility from the policy community.

Battling malaria <br>with treated bednets — Participants in an IDRC-funded malaria bednets project

In cases of strong demand, he said, “it was often where it was a brand new problem they didn’t know how to address. Often in IT [information technology] policy, a lot of countries didn’t know what to do about it. They were a lot more willing to ask researchers for advice, where they were less willing in areas like education and health where they purported to already know what should be done.”

Some cases found a very different climate, where policy makers simply weren’t receptive to research, regardless of the strength of its findings.

In Guatemala, for example, where IDRC funded research on unequal access to education by women and members of indigenous groups, the findings fell on deaf ears. “The government was actually in a mode where they were saying ‘we are one country’. They were coming out of civil strife, and they were putting out the message that ‘we are all the same, we are all Guatemalans,'” and findings that identified a need to devote more resources to particular groups were not well received, he said.

“They could have presented their research differently, and really taken the tack that in order to be one Guatemala we have to bring them in more directly,” Carden said. “I think they just missed that. They didn’t actually sit down and think about, ‘what’s the ability of policy makers, what’s the capacity, and if they’re not asking us for advice on this, how are we going to frame it in a way that supports what they are trying to do?'”

Other cases were drawn from IDRC-funded studies in developing or lower-income countries worldwide – all led by nationals from those countries — including Peru, the Philippines, Bangladesh, India, Vietnam, Senegal, Tanzania, Uganda, Jordan, Tunisia, and Ukraine.

Evaluating technologies with farmers at a climate change adaptation learning centre in Zimbabwe — IDRC-sponsored project on climate change adaptation in Africa (Zimbabwe)

Diverse Study Subjects

The subjects and aims of the studies varied widely. They included research on water resources and irrigation, mining, enhancing influence on international trade issues, health issues, promoting traditional knowledge, increasing access to new technologies, and addressing ‘brain drain’ issues.

In approaching an assessment of impact in such a variety of individual studies in diverse locations, Carden said, he sought to take as much input as possible on research design. “I brought together case study writers, IDRC programme staff. I didn’t give them a framework, but said ‘look at the cases.’ That’s how we developed a way to analyze across cases. We took detailed notes at workshops, looked at what’s coming out over and over again.” That process, and the ongoing findings around impact “has influenced how people ask questions at IDRC, and how they provide advice to researchers,” he said.

Evolving Impact-Study Methods

Carden, who holds a PhD from the University of Montreal and joined IDRC in 1993, sees the policy influence work as a natural outgrowth of his evaluation design work for the center, including outcome mapping.

“That’s an approach to planning, monitoring and evaluation, relationships exposure and activities. A lot of work can’t be defined as direct impact, but you can look at what are the changes in relationships between the people — are they finding different ways to interact with policy makers or are they staying in their own little research world?” he said.

“How do they transmit their messages? How do they build the relationships they need to influence people — with media, policy makers and others? Outcomes are actually in them making those efforts and beginning to build those relationships. So, outcome mapping is actually a methodology for designing your work around those outcomes you are trying to achieve, that will support, you think, the change you want to see happen ultimately. A lot of that is around the boundaries, because you can only talk about changing the behavior and activity of those you actually are interacting with.”

Building Impact in from the Ground Up

Carden also encourages researchers to think about impact beyond specific policy influence, to include impact on civil society efforts and deep engagement with the subjects of research studies themselves. Such efforts can pay important dividends to the researcher, he said, in terms of strengthening a study but also in some cases realizing significant positive change.

“I really think researchers have to get more directly engaged with the people who are directly affected by the research,” he said. “People who are poor have a huge amount of intelligence about why they’re poor and what’s going on around them.”

He noted one case study from the book of a study aimed at enhancing the organization and sustainability of the Honey Bee Network, a grassroots group focused on support for India’s traditional small farmers.

The study highlighted ways to have impact “not in talking to policy makers directly but getting the community engaged and then getting community members to go talk to policy makers. It’s changing the mindset of researchers that’s key and making it legitimate for them, giving them permission almost to go out and talk to people in the community.”

Carden exhorts researchers to work closely with the groups and individuals they study, including in the research design process and data analysis, for gaining insight into the broader context in which findings are embedded.

“Avoid doing the research in isolation. Avoid big pronouncements and research studies about people that don’t involve those people. You’ll have numbers that are consistent but not necessarily a good understanding of the implications of that research,” he said. “A lot of times, the data all looks very clean but nobody actually sees the truth. That kind of back and forth, in a very iterative exchange, could be very valuable.”

That kind of deep engagement can be built into funding applications as well, he noted, and it often is well received by funders such as IDRC.

On applications, “don’t be afraid to expand beyond the typical academic response, of preparing policy briefs and doing presentations to ministers,” he said. “We get quite frustrated that what’s coming in doesn’t try to move beyond the typical response. I’d say be creative, say we actually want to get out there in the community.”

Impact Strategy: Fred Carden Shares Insights from 23-Country Study of Academic Influence on Poverty Policy

2013-05-15 By ASAP Global

In this article, Luis Cabrera interviews Fred Carden. Read more of our Impact Interviews.

When it comes to influencing government anti-poverty efforts, the policy climate matters, Fred Carden notes, but so does a researcher’s focus on actually having an impact.

Key Impact Variables

Some cases found a very different climate, where policy makers simply weren’t receptive to research, regardless of the strength of its findings.

Diverse Study Subjects

Evolving Impact-Study Methods

Building Impact in from the Ground Up

That kind of deep engagement can be built into funding applications as well, he noted, and it often is well received by funders such as IDRC.

Impact Interview: Nicolas Lemay-Hébert

2013-04-27 By ASAP Global

In this article, Sumaiyah Moolla interviews Dr Nicolas Lemay-Hébert, senior lecturer, International Development Department, University of Birmingham. Articles in the Impact: Global Poverty Series have thus far focused on researchers seeking to have a more direct impact on aspects of poverty alleviation policy or practice. This article focuses on teaching as well as research contributions by a group of Canadian academics working with teachers and students in Haiti. Read more of our Impact Interviews.

In 2010 Haiti was devastated by an earthquake of epic proportions. More than 300,000 people lost their lives, countless more were injured and an estimated 1.5 million were left homeless, their communities reduced to rubble. Haiti’s plight was witnessed on a global scale, as shocking images of human suffering and destruction were disseminated in the world’s media.

The impact of the earthquake on the country’s education system was devastating. Many universities were severely damaged or destroyed, including the newly christened campus of Quisqueya University. There, researchers from Quebec had been supporting the development of an urban studies programme through the Precarious Neighbourhoods and Sustainable Urban Development in Haiti project. ASAP spoke to programme participant Nicolas Lemay-Hébert about his ongoing work in Haiti and the struggles that Haitian academics and their students face as recovery continues.

What motivated you and your colleagues to go to Haiti?: The Precarious Neighbourhoods and Sustainable Urban Development in Haiti project is led by three senior researchers from the University of Quebec at Montreal (UQAM): Jean Goulet, Paul Bodson (both urban studies) and Paul-Martel Roy (economics). They have a longstanding history of collaboration with Haitian institutions, stretching well before the earthquake. The project started in 2007, and I joined in 2010 in my capacity as adjunct professor of economics at UQAM. They were looking for an additional colleague to supervise graduate students in Haiti and to teach specific seminars on post-disaster reconstruction and humanitarian action. As a scholar interested in humanitarian affairs, peacebuilding and statebuilding, and with increased interest in these themes among Haitian students, they asked me to join their team. I also think they approached me because of my flexibility as a (still fairly) young researcher; there are not a lot of lecturers who are ready to spend their Spring breaks teaching under a tent in Haiti! Personally, it provided me with the opportunity to see Haiti for the first time, and to extend my expertise from Kosovo and Timor-Leste to the newest focal point of the ‘aid caravan’. This research interest further developed into a passion for me, as I have now visited Haiti seven times since the earthquake.

What was the original aim of the project? The initial goal of the project was to support local institutions with the aim of strengthening networks of local organisations and enabling them to intervene effectively and competently in poor neighbourhoods in Haiti. Training and support structures offered under this project have been designed and implemented in partnership with local actors, in particular, the Research and Technological Exchange Group (GRET) in Haiti, a French non-governmental organisation (NGO), which is active in poor neighbourhoods.

Images of the aftermath of the earthquake that struck Haiti on January 12 2010 have been all over the media, revealing the vastness of the destruction in several cities, particularly Port-au-Prince [Haiti’s capital city], but also the precarious conditions in which the majority of the urban population live. Yet, these same images also revealed another reality: they showed mechanisms of local solidarity, which are crucial to understanding these precarious neighbourhoods. Faced with a growing structural shortage of available housing, as well as the absence of coherent government urban management policies, these populations have provided themselves with housing and urban services which they deemed essential to their own specific community. The aim of the project was certainly not to teach Haitians ‘what to do’, but rather to help them build from existing resources and support them in the process of setting up a department of urban studies at Quisqueya University (UNIQ). Obviously, the earthquake – and the death toll associated with it, for students as well as for faculty members – increased the need for supervision and teaching on our behalf. Sadly, the university had inaugurated its new campus a few weeks before the earthquake; it was completely destroyed by the earthquake, killing many students and teachers.

How did the partnership between UQAM and UNIQ come about? The partnership between the two universities officially started in 1997, but there is a longstanding history of collaboration and exchange between Haitian and Quebecian universities. It is mostly due to the special relationship that the Quebecois have entertained with the Haitians since the 1970s. Montreal is home to one of the biggest Haitian Diaspora communities, and we have many well-established scholars, artists and civil servants of Haitian decent (including the 70,000 Haitians living in Montreal – almost two per cent of the city’s population). Hence, I presume that the partnership between the two specific universities made sense from the start – especially if we take into account the linguistic affinities between the two countries. This project was enabled by a grant from the Canadian International Development Agency, under the University Partnerships in Cooperation and Development programme (www.acdi-cida.gc.ca).

Describe the scene when you first arrived in Haiti. This likely betrays my western culture bias, but I immediately thought of the images of the bombing of Dresden during the Second World War. It was probably the sight of the Port-au-Prince cathedral, with only its lower walls and its façade standing after the earthquake, which made me think of the images of Dresden Cathedral after Allied bombing. In any case, the cathedral was clearly a landmark in the city, and images of its destruction came to represent the extent of destruction caused by the earthquake (on par with the National Palace, home to the president) for news agencies. It is also quite telling that the design for the new cathedral, to be rebuilt in the same spot as its predecessor, will integrate the façade of the collapsed building – an important marker both on the road of reconstruction and of the necessity to remember the traumatic experience and the deceased.

I also realised the extent of the destruction by accompanying my colleagues on their visits to various precarious neighbourhoods. With the overpopulation of Port-au-Prince and its vicinity, the poorest segments of the population were progressively forced out of Port-au-Prince’s nicest areas to the coast, the slopes, the ravines and the central areas, a product of the deterioration of older neighbourhoods. As Solidarités Internationales notes, it is not only 30 to 40 per cent of the urban population that live in these precarious neighbourhoods (as in most Latin American capitals); in fact, the vast majority of Port-au-Prince citizens live in a self-constructed, self-organised district.[i] It is important to understand that these neighbourhoods respond to a specific way of spatial organisation, articulated around mechanisms of local solidarity and needs arisen from the informal economy. At the same time, this spatial organisation exposes the population to environmental risks, especially in the slopes and ravines area. In one such area (Canapé Vert), I saw a lorry literally dropping bricks from the top of a hill down into the valley. It was also disheartening to see inhabitants pulling buckets of rubble to the top of a hill – one bucket at a time. The topography of these areas makes them almost impossible to access by car – let alone by truck – which makes rubble removal a very difficult operation.

If the earthquake killed more than 300,000 (many Haitians buried their relatives privately without notifying the government, which makes official estimation a tricky business), signs of the human catastrophe were not immediately visible on my first trip, six months after the earthquake. Port-au-Prince was a gigantic pile of rubble (the equivalent of 10 World Trade Centre sites), but you become de-sensitised to the sight of collapsed buildings after a while. Also, people with mental or physical disabilities suffer widely from stigmatisation and marginalisation in Haiti, which results in them being kept out of sight in the central areas of Port-au-Prince; consequently, the most blatant signs of the earthquake’s human toll had been removed in the first few months. However, I still remember vividly the first conversation I had with my colleagues at UNIQ and the State University of Haiti, describing their own ordeal during and after the goudougoudou (Creole for earthquake). I also remember seeing little things that reminded me of the sheer human cost of the earthquake: drafts of documents scattered where the United Nations headquarters once stood, a testimony to the suddenness of the event; people digging in the rubble to find the bodies of loved ones; babies’ shoes lost in the middle of piles of debris – a reminder that the earthquake had spared no one.

It is thought that a large proportion of Haitian higher education institutions were damaged or destroyed in the earthquake. What are conditions like for Haitian students? It is difficult to say, since my personal experience derives from my involvement with one specific university – moreover, a private university. However, one thing appears clear to me (and my colleagues in Haiti): universities in Haiti suffer from a structural phenomenon where the best elements (students and faculties) are hired by foreign universities and institutions (external brain drain) or by international non-governmental institutions (internal brain drain), weakening governmental agencies in the process. While this is a situation that may appear advantageous at first sight, especially for students (who is not looking frantically for placement opportunities for their students in these tough economic times?), recruitment conditions are not always optimal, and most students discover that their degrees are not recognised abroad and subsequently have to retrain. This is especially true for healthcare and engineering graduates. It is difficult for us to make any judgement, as we obviously don’t have any legitimacy in commenting on this process. I have lived, studied or worked in Canada, France, the United States and now the United Kingdom, so who am I to judge the personal choice of many colleagues in Haiti, leaving their home country for better working conditions – a choice I have myself made multiple times? One thing appears clear though: if the personal choice and motivations behind each decision to leave the country cannot be disputed, it compounds to a collective disaster for Haitian universities and institutions. Hence, the situation of the higher education institutions cannot be understood by looking only at the institutional destruction of the earthquake; one has to look at the structural factors which have marginalised and weakened higher education institutions in the past decades. At the same time, it is not a situation that is specific to higher education institutions; it has to be understood within the wider story of the progressive weakening of Haitian state institutions. There is an inherent tension between the conscious policies of many western governments at attracting the most promising segments of the Haitian society in their ‘chosen immigration’ schemes and their pledge to support local ownership and strengthen national capabilities in Haiti. However, it’s not all gloom and doom, as there are positive signals emerging from recent developments, including the inauguration of the Roi Henri Christophe Centre for Higher Education in Limonade (northern Haiti), or the continued excellence of scholars associated with UNIQ and Haiti’s State University resisting the siren song of expatriation.

What response have you had from your Haitian students? What knowledge or skills do they most want to learn? They are so eager to learn and make a difference, it is just amazing. When you see the conditions in which they are forced to write their essays – relying almost exclusively on excerpts of books available on Google Scholar (rarely full chapters, which in turn forces the students to show imagination in completing the author’s arguments) or the grey literature available online – you can only be amazed by how resourceful they are. I have taught two intensive seminars as part of the project: an advanced seminar on qualitative methods entitled “Local-International Interactions in the Reconstruction Process of Precarious Districts” and one on “Emergency, Reconstruction and Rubble Removing”. The students were particularly eager to learn how to conduct interviews and write articles or reports. I thought it was important to make them understand the ‘rules of the game’, to make them aware of what was considered an ‘authorised discourse’ and, in the process, break the cycle of reproduction of certain discourses (‘Haitians cannot take care of themselves’ type of narrative). As an assistant editor of the Journal of Intervention and Statebuilding, I deal with the rejection of articles and the reproduction of a certain knowledge on a daily basis. My students have also shown a marked interest in past experiences in Kosovo, Timor-Leste, Iran (Bam) or Indonesia (following the tsunami). I guess it helped them put the Haitian situation into perspective.

How do your Haitian students apply the knowledge that’s passed on? Most of them work full time during the day and attend university in the evening, so they have an opportunity to apply their knowledge right away. They are also in high demand by the aid community, looking for locals to contribute to the reconstruction efforts. I am also currently working on the publication of three outstanding essays written by Haitian students, which hopefully will send a signal to the other students that it is possible to publish and make your ideas well known outside of Haiti.

Do you think that providing assistance via knowledge transfer is as effective as offering practical help in the field? It’s not an either-or situation. Practical help was clearly needed in the aftermath of the earthquake, especially in the first few months. However, there was indisputably a tension between reconstruction efforts conducted ‘from the outside-in’ and strengthening local capacities and local actors. The tension is not as much actor-driven per se (as any international NGO will employ locals, for instance) as it is a by-product of a specific mindset – the ‘we do it ourselves’ mentality that plays such a crucial role in humanitarian action. As former Haitian Minister of Heath Daniel Henrys once said, “Haiti has lived in a state of urgency for the past two decades”. So, I would argue that knowledge transfer and strengthening of local capabilities is – and should be – a crucial element for every international intervention. Quite honestly, I think it is an opinion that has become quite consensual in policy circles and in the specialised literature, despite the fact that there is actually no consensus on how to implement a significant modification of current mindsets. Hence, we end up following the same patterns of intervention, while labelling these patterns differently.

Haiti is considered one of the poorest countries in the western hemisphere – how can knowledge transfer and improving research methods facilitate in alleviating poverty? Certain scholars (Jeffrey Sachs, among others) are preaching for the establishment of a Marshall Plan for Haiti – mirroring the postwar reconstruction effort of Western Europe through American funding (and lending). The Marshall Plan represented two per cent of French gross domestic product (GDP) over a period of three years. Yet, Haiti received an average of eight per cent of its annual GDP in aid in recent years, representing nothing less than four Marshall Plans per year.[ii] There needs to be significant change in how aid is disbursed in Haiti, and how local actors are included (or not). There is certainly a need for ‘alternative’ development schemes, focusing on local capabilities and knowledge transfer. There is a need to address the root causes of the fragility of the state in Haiti – and like it or not, that also means conducting an analysis of the role played by international actors in the marginalisation process of state institutions. I don’t believe that international factors are the unique cause of the stalled economic development in Haiti, yet I question the seriousness of any analysis leaving international factors unexamined.

What academic capabilities are in need in Haiti? Without romanticising the local, so to speak, I find the Haitian production of articles and books is outstanding. Most of my Haitian colleagues are both innovative and highly productive. Most of them are already well integrated in the knowledge production fields, especially through French connections, so I feel slightly uncomfortable with the assertion that we should strengthen their academic capability in one way or another. However, other social scientists are operating under the radar, mostly because they are producing research using alternative frameworks. Personally, I think that what is lacking is a better integration of these alternative frameworks into the global field of knowledge production. This is mostly a joint responsibility – meaning that it is our responsibility in western institutions to open our minds to unconventional analyses and research, and it is the responsibility of researchers to submit articles and books using the accepted format and following the ‘rules of the game’. In these difficult economic times, and with the current crisis of neoliberal capitalism, I believe it is more relevant than ever to look for alternative conceptions of social integration, new frameworks and new ways to approach intervention.

How can academics and researchers who do not specialise in disaster recovery/management get involved (either in Haiti or in other disaster-struck areas)? It is a common misconception to believe that development is only for development specialists (ie, social scientists). While there is a continuous need for locally-sensitive, energetic and hard-working aid workers (I am based in an international development department, after all), international and local organisations are also looking for engineers (especially agricultural engineers), urban planners and physicians (eg, Doctors Without Borders). So, I would suggest to anyone interested in an experience overseas to look at the websites of the major aid organisations.

What can teachers and researchers learn from teaching abroad? Would you encourage others to join projects overseas? I would certainly encourage colleagues to teach overseas, even for small stints. It is a fabulous way to reflect on your own research, among other things. I know it sounds clichéd, but I have learned a lot from my students, discussing how they see the future of their country, how they are dealing with the everyday, with their international colleagues and so on. It is also a great opportunity for social scientists to develop new research projects, extending their stay for seven to 10 days to conduct a first round of interviews, for instance. This can considerably strengthen a research proposal. The most difficult aspect is probably being away from your loved ones for a while – but here again, most organisations understand these particular constraints and suggest intensive seminars over two weeks to limit the negative impact on your family and work.

What inspires you to keep returning to Haiti? Several factors: first, I have to mention the resilience of the Haitian people, their ability to focus on positive aspects and to keep their morale up, even in difficult times. Working on and in Haiti might sound depressing; actually it is far from it. People are continuously smiling and welcome you with open hearts, and you rarely feel in danger in Port-au-Prince. Second, there is the Haitian culture, including visual arts, music and theatre. Haiti might be poor in global economic terms, but culturally speaking, it is a tremendously rich nation. Third, I also have to be honest and say that for someone interested in local narratives of resistance to international interventions and the political economy of aid and peacebuilding, Haiti is a particularly stimulating environment. Finally, I am inspired by local success stories, made of local initiatives (and sometimes empowered by visionary international actors) and anchored in local communities. I have participated in a short documentary on one such initiative (available online at: http://vimeo.com/18668506). For me, it means that there is no determinism in the current debate over the limits of aid in Haiti and elsewhere, and alternatives routes to sustainable development exist.

Some overseas opportunities for academics are detailed at the following websites:

UK Department for International Development

United Nations Development Programme

The European Commission Community Research and Development Information Service

European Commission EURAXESS

European University Institute Academic Careers Observatory

[i] Simon Deprez and Éléonore Labattut, La Reconstruction de Port-au-Prince: Analyses et Réflexions sur les Stratégies d’Interventions en Milieu Urbain, Report for Solidarités Internationales, October 1 2011, Available online at: http://reliefweb.int/sites/reliefweb.int/files/resources/mission-d’appui-retour-quartier-rapport-final-deprez-labattut-version-finale-doubles-pages-light-30-12-11.pdf

[ii] Nicolas Lemay-Hébert and Stéphane Pallage, “Aide Internationale et Développement en Haïti: Bilan et Perspective”, Haïti Perspectives 1(1), 2012, p 14.

Canadian Team Supports Haitian Academics and Students in the Aftermath of Devastating 2010 Earthquake

2013-04-27 By ASAP Global

Articles in the Impact: Global Poverty Series have thus far focused on researchers seeking to have a more direct impact on aspects of poverty alleviation policy or practice. This article focuses on teaching as well as research contributions by a group of Canadian academics working with teachers and students in Haiti. Sumaiyah Moolla interviews Nicolas Lemay-Hébert, Senior Lecturer, International Development Department, University of Birmingham

Nicolas Lemay-Hébert in Haiti

What motivated you and your colleagues to go to Haiti?

The Precarious Neighbourhoods and Sustainable Urban Development in Haiti project is led by three senior researchers from the University of Quebec at Montreal (UQAM): Jean Goulet, Paul Bodson (both urban studies) and Paul-Martel Roy (economics). They have a longstanding history of collaboration with Haitian institutions, stretching well before the earthquake. The project started in 2007, and I joined in 2010 in my capacity as adjunct professor of economics at UQAM. They were looking for an additional colleague to supervise graduate students in Haiti and to teach specific seminars on post-disaster reconstruction and humanitarian action. As a scholar interested in humanitarian affairs, peacebuilding and statebuilding, and with increased interest in these themes among Haitian students, they asked me to join their team. I also think they approached me because of my flexibility as a (still fairly) young researcher; there are not a lot of lecturers who are ready to spend their Spring breaks teaching under a tent in Haiti! Personally, it provided me with the opportunity to see Haiti for the first time, and to extend my expertise from Kosovo and Timor-Leste to the newest focal point of the ‘aid caravan’. This research interest further developed into a passion for me, as I have now visited Haiti seven times since the earthquake.

What was the original aim of the project?

The initial goal of the project was to support local institutions with the aim of strengthening networks of local organisations and enabling them to intervene effectively and competently in poor neighbourhoods in Haiti. Training and support structures offered under this project have been designed and implemented in partnership with local actors, in particular, the Research and Technological Exchange Group (GRET) in Haiti, a French non-governmental organisation (NGO), which is active in poor neighbourhoods.

How did the partnership between UQAM and UNIQ come about?

The partnership between the two universities officially started in 1997, but there is a longstanding history of collaboration and exchange between Haitian and Quebecian universities. It is mostly due to the special relationship that the Quebecois have entertained with the Haitians since the 1970s. Montreal is home to one of the biggest Haitian Diaspora communities, and we have many well-established scholars, artists and civil servants of Haitian decent (including the 70,000 Haitians living in Montreal – almost two per cent of the city’s population). Hence, I presume that the partnership between the two specific universities made sense from the start – especially if we take into account the linguistic affinities between the two countries. This project was enabled by a grant from the Canadian International Development Agency, under the University Partnerships in Cooperation and Development programme.

Describe the scene when you first arrived in Haiti.

This likely betrays my western culture bias, but I immediately thought of the images of the bombing of Dresden during the Second World War. It was probably the sight of the Port-au-Prince cathedral, with only its lower walls and its façade standing after the earthquake, which made me think of the images of Dresden Cathedral after Allied bombing. In any case, the cathedral was clearly a landmark in the city, and images of its destruction came to represent the extent of destruction caused by the earthquake (on par with the National Palace, home to the president) for news agencies. It is also quite telling that the design for the new cathedral, to be rebuilt in the same spot as its predecessor, will integrate the façade of the collapsed building – an important marker both on the road of reconstruction and of the necessity to remember the traumatic experience and the deceased.

I also realised the extent of the destruction by accompanying my colleagues on their visits to various precarious neighbourhoods. With the overpopulation of Port-au-Prince and its vicinity, the poorest segments of the population were progressively forced out of Port-au-Prince’s nicest areas to the coast, the slopes, the ravines and the central areas, a product of the deterioration of older neighbourhoods. As Solidarités Internationales notes, it is not only 30 to 40 per cent of the urban population that live in these precarious neighbourhoods (as in most Latin American capitals); in fact, the vast majority of Port-au-Prince citizens live in a self-constructed, self-organised district.^[1] It is important to understand that these neighbourhoods respond to a specific way of spatial organisation, articulated around mechanisms of local solidarity and needs arisen from the informal economy. At the same time, this spatial organisation exposes the population to environmental risks, especially in the slopes and ravines area. In one such area (Canapé Vert), I saw a lorry literally dropping bricks from the top of a hill down into the valley. It was also disheartening to see inhabitants pulling buckets of rubble to the top of a hill – one bucket at a time. The topography of these areas makes them almost impossible to access by car – let alone by truck – which makes rubble removal a very difficult operation.

It is thought that a large proportion of Haitian higher education institutions were damaged or destroyed in the earthquake. What are conditions like for Haitian students?

It is difficult to say, since my personal experience derives from my involvement with one specific university – moreover, a private university. However, one thing appears clear to me (and my colleagues in Haiti): universities in Haiti suffer from a structural phenomenon where the best elements (students and faculties) are hired by foreign universities and institutions (external brain drain) or by international non-governmental institutions (internal brain drain), weakening governmental agencies in the process. While this is a situation that may appear advantageous at first sight, especially for students (who is not looking frantically for placement opportunities for their students in these tough economic times?), recruitment conditions are not always optimal, and most students discover that their degrees are not recognised abroad and subsequently have to retrain. This is especially true for healthcare and engineering graduates. It is difficult for us to make any judgement, as we obviously don’t have any legitimacy in commenting on this process. I have lived, studied or worked in Canada, France, the United States and now the United Kingdom, so who am I to judge the personal choice of many colleagues in Haiti, leaving their home country for better working conditions – a choice I have myself made multiple times? One thing appears clear though: if the personal choice and motivations behind each decision to leave the country cannot be disputed, it compounds to a collective disaster for Haitian universities and institutions. Hence, the situation of the higher education institutions cannot be understood by looking only at the institutional destruction of the earthquake; one has to look at the structural factors which have marginalised and weakened higher education institutions in the past decades. At the same time, it is not a situation that is specific to higher education institutions; it has to be understood within the wider story of the progressive weakening of Haitian state institutions. There is an inherent tension between the conscious policies of many western governments at attracting the most promising segments of the Haitian society in their ‘chosen immigration’ schemes and their pledge to support local ownership and strengthen national capabilities in Haiti. However, it’s not all gloom and doom, as there are positive signals emerging from recent developments, including the inauguration of the Roi Henri Christophe Centre for Higher Education in Limonade (northern Haiti), or the continued excellence of scholars associated with UNIQ and Haiti’s State University resisting the siren song of expatriation.

What response have you had from your Haitian students? What knowledge or skills do they most want to learn?

They are so eager to learn and make a difference, it is just amazing. When you see the conditions in which they are forced to write their essays – relying almost exclusively on excerpts of books available on Google Scholar (rarely full chapters, which in turn forces the students to show imagination in completing the author’s arguments) or the grey literature available online – you can only be amazed by how resourceful they are. I have taught two intensive seminars as part of the project: an advanced seminar on qualitative methods entitled “Local-International Interactions in the Reconstruction Process of Precarious Districts” and one on “Emergency, Reconstruction and Rubble Removing”. The students were particularly eager to learn how to conduct interviews and write articles or reports. I thought it was important to make them understand the ‘rules of the game’, to make them aware of what was considered an ‘authorised discourse’ and, in the process, break the cycle of reproduction of certain discourses (‘Haitians cannot take care of themselves’ type of narrative). As an assistant editor of the Journal of Intervention and Statebuilding, I deal with the rejection of articles and the reproduction of a certain knowledge on a daily basis. My students have also shown a marked interest in past experiences in Kosovo, Timor-Leste, Iran (Bam) or Indonesia (following the tsunami). I guess it helped them put the Haitian situation into perspective.

How do your Haitian students apply the knowledge that’s passed on?

Most of them work full time during the day and attend university in the evening, so they have an opportunity to apply their knowledge right away. They are also in high demand by the aid community, looking for locals to contribute to the reconstruction efforts. I am also currently working on the publication of three outstanding essays written by Haitian students, which hopefully will send a signal to the other students that it is possible to publish and make your ideas well known outside of Haiti.

Do you think that providing assistance via knowledge transfer is as effective as offering practical help in the field?

It’s not an either-or situation. Practical help was clearly needed in the aftermath of the earthquake, especially in the first few months. However, there was indisputably a tension between reconstruction efforts conducted ‘from the outside-in’ and strengthening local capacities and local actors. The tension is not as much actor-driven per se (as any international NGO will employ locals, for instance) as it is a by-product of a specific mindset – the ‘we do it ourselves’ mentality that plays such a crucial role in humanitarian action. As former Haitian Minister of Heath Daniel Henrys once said, “Haiti has lived in a state of urgency for the past two decades”. So, I would argue that knowledge transfer and strengthening of local capabilities is – and should be – a crucial element for every international intervention. Quite honestly, I think it is an opinion that has become quite consensual in policy circles and in the specialised literature, despite the fact that there is actually no consensus on how to implement a significant modification of current mindsets. Hence, we end up following the same patterns of intervention, while labeling these patterns differently.

Haiti is considered one of the poorest countries in the western hemisphere – how can knowledge transfer and improving research methods facilitate in alleviating poverty?

Certain scholars (Jeffrey Sachs, among others) are preaching for the establishment of a Marshall Plan for Haiti – mirroring the postwar reconstruction effort of Western Europe through American funding (and lending). The Marshall Plan represented two per cent of French gross domestic product (GDP) over a period of three years. Yet, Haiti received an average of eight per cent of its annual GDP in aid in recent years, representing nothing less than four Marshall Plans per year.^[2] There needs to be significant change in how aid is disbursed in Haiti, and how local actors are included (or not). There is certainly a need for ‘alternative’ development schemes, focusing on local capabilities and knowledge transfer. There is a need to address the root causes of the fragility of the state in Haiti – and like it or not, that also means conducting an analysis of the role played by international actors in the marginalisation process of state institutions. I don’t believe that international factors are the unique cause of the stalled economic development in Haiti, yet I question the seriousness of any analysis leaving international factors unexamined.

What academic capabilities are in need in Haiti?

Without romanticising the local, so to speak, I find the Haitian production of articles and books is outstanding. Most of my Haitian colleagues are both innovative and highly productive. Most of them are already well integrated in the knowledge production fields, especially through French connections, so I feel slightly uncomfortable with the assertion that we should strengthen their academic capability in one way or another. However, other social scientists are operating under the radar, mostly because they are producing research using alternative frameworks. Personally, I think that what is lacking is a better integration of these alternative frameworks into the global field of knowledge production. This is mostly a joint responsibility – meaning that it is our responsibility in western institutions to open our minds to unconventional analyses and research, and it is the responsibility of researchers to submit articles and books using the accepted format and following the ‘rules of the game’. In these difficult economic times, and with the current crisis of neoliberal capitalism, I believe it is more relevant than ever to look for alternative conceptions of social integration, new frameworks and new ways to approach intervention.

How can academics and researchers who do not specialise in disaster recovery/management get involved (either in Haiti or in other disaster-struck areas)?

It is a common misconception to believe that development is only for development specialists (i.e. social scientists). While there is a continuous need for locally-sensitive, energetic and hard-working aid workers (I am based in an international development department, after all), international and local organisations are also looking for engineers (especially agricultural engineers), urban planners and physicians (eg, Doctors Without Borders). So, I would suggest to anyone interested in an experience overseas to look at the websites of the major aid organisations.

What can teachers and researchers learn from teaching abroad? Would you encourage others to join projects overseas?

I would certainly encourage colleagues to teach overseas, even for small stints. It is a fabulous way to reflect on your own research, among other things. I know it sounds clichéd, but I have learned a lot from my students, discussing how they see the future of their country, how they are dealing with the everyday, with their international colleagues and so on. It is also a great opportunity for social scientists to develop new research projects, extending their stay for seven to 10 days to conduct a first round of interviews, for instance. This can considerably strengthen a research proposal. The most difficult aspect is probably being away from your loved ones for a while – but here again, most organisations understand these particular constraints and suggest intensive seminars over two weeks to limit the negative impact on your family and work.

What inspires you to keep returning to Haiti?

Several factors: first, I have to mention the resilience of the Haitian people, their ability to focus on positive aspects and to keep their morale up, even in difficult times. Working on and in Haiti might sound depressing; actually it is far from it. People are continuously smiling and welcome you with open hearts, and you rarely feel in danger in Port-au-Prince. Second, there is the Haitian culture, including visual arts, music and theatre. Haiti might be poor in global economic terms, but culturally speaking, it is a tremendously rich nation. Third, I also have to be honest and say that for someone interested in local narratives of resistance to international interventions and the political economy of aid and peacebuilding, Haiti is a particularly stimulating environment. Finally, I am inspired by local success stories, made of local initiatives (and sometimes empowered by visionary international actors) and anchored in local communities. I have participated in a short documentary on one such initiative (embedded below). For me, it means that there is no determinism in the current debate over the limits of aid in Haiti and elsewhere, and alternatives routes to sustainable development exist.

Some overseas opportunities for academics are detailed at the following websites:

UK Department for International Development

United Nations Development Programme

The European Commission Community Research and Development Information Service

[1] Simon Deprez and Éléonore Labattut, La Reconstruction de Port-au-Prince: Analyses et Réflexions sur les Stratégies d’Interventions en Milieu Urbain, Report for Solidarités Internationales, October 1 2011. (Available online)

[2] Nicolas Lemay-Hébert and Stéphane Pallage, “Aide Internationale et Développement en Haïti: Bilan et Perspective”, Haïti Perspectives 1(1), 2012, p 14.

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Impact Interview: Nicolas Lemay-Hébert

Canadian Team Supports Haitian Academics and Students in the Aftermath of Devastating 2010 Earthquake

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