‘Banerjee's approach might
teach us more about impact but at the expense of larger matters’
Robert H. Bates
8 By
advocating the use of randomized trials to evaluate development
aid, Abhijit Banerjee seeks to repel criticisms from two camps:
those who are skeptical of the way aid is spent and those who
stress the fragile scientific foundations that justify its distribution.
Policymakers crowd the
ranks of the first camp. Rather than viewing aid
as a transfer between the rich and the poor, they
view it as a shift from rich taxpayers in the
North to poor governments in the South. They view
governments as inefficient and corrupt—as part
of the problem, not part of the solution. Those
who subscribe to this view demand proof that the
taxpayers’ money is being well spent. In the
face of this attack, Banerjee proposes a
methodology designed to provide rigorous
measurements of the impact of aid programs. By
isolating the features that make the greatest
impact, it provides greater assurance that the
resources transferred to developing nations will
get the biggest bang for the buck. This proposal
should be welcomed by the first camp.
Scholars
(such as William Easterly) fill the ranks of the
second camp. They believe that development aid
lacks adequate justification. By this they do not
mean moral justification; even skeptics of aid
are moved by the magnitude of the disparity
between rich and poor nations. Rather, they mean
the underlying science guiding aid giving, or
rather the lack of it.
In truth, there is no
theory of development that is logically
compelling and demonstrably valid. One good
indicator of this deficiency is the very
abundance of theories, some pointing to the
importance of capital, others to the role of
technical change, and still others to the
significance of political institutions. The lack
of rigorous foundations is also betrayed by the
way that scholarly viewpoints change: not when
they are proved false but when people rally
around new ones. When Robert McNamara headed the
World Bank during the Johnson administration,
development specialists called for a “war on
poverty”; when Barber Conable headed it during
the Reagan administration, they sought to “get
the prices right.” The field of development
responds less to evidence than to political
fashion.
Development aid is thus criticized by
both practitioners and scholars, and Banerjee
provides a rejoinder to both in the form of
empirics. Were development like, say, nutrition,
then randomized experiments should indeed expose
bad development ideas as surely as they expose
faddish diets. I fear, however, that in crafting
his defense, Banerjee may have so narrowed the
focus of the debate as to lose sight of crucial
concerns.
If Banerjee’s empirical approach to
development aid became dominant, it would
transform the field from a search for the
underlying forces of development into a form of
policy analysis. It might achieve greater
certainty about the impact of particular policy
features, but it would do so at the expense of
larger and possibly more important
matters.
This is a familiar complaint when a
field of knowledge becomes a formal science. In
many instances, it is best ignored: real progress
is often made through precision rather than
speculation. But in this instance focusing on the
impact of policies may cause us to lose sight of
the framework within which they are chosen, and
to miss out on one of the most important
consequences of aid.
To illustrate: after the
failure of Kenyan President Daniel Arap Moi to
abide by the conditions attached to international
loans his country was given in the late 1990s,
the IMF and World Bank suspended further lending
to Kenya. In December 2002 the opposition seized
the presidency, and the new president, Mwai
Kibaki, began to attack the problems that Moi had
ignored. After a decent interval, the
international financial community issued Kenya a
clean bill of health, and aid once again began to
flow.
While many rejoiced, members of
the Kenyan National Assembly did not. Uhuru
Kenyatta, himself an unsuccessful presidential
candidate, declaimed from the floor that the
resumption of aid had hindered the National
Assembly’s influence over Kibaki, who had once
been forced to come to the National Assembly for
funds. With the resumption of international
assistance, he did not. Kenyatta argued that it
was now more in Moi’s interest to cater to
bankers and policymakers in Paris, London, and
Washington than to Kenyans.
Better
methodologies may enable technocrats to design
better public policies. But, as Kenyatta noted,
governments are less accountable to those at home
when public revenues flow into a country from
without. With foreign donors to support them,
they need not bargain with their own people or
exchange good policies for tax payments. The
manner in which policies are financed may thus be
as significant as the content of the policies
themselves.
Such judgments are not readily
subject to measurement. But any reckoning of the merits of development
aid will surely have to take them into account. <
Robert H. Bates
is the Eaton Professor of the Science of Government at Harvard
University. His most recent book is Prosperity and Violence.
He was a 2001 Carnegie Scholar.
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New
Democracy Forum “Making Aid Work”
Originally published in the July/August
2006 issue of Boston Review
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