The Asian 21st Century, by Kishore Mahbubani

 

This new book by Kishore Mahbubani, a senior Singaporean diplomat and academic, deals with the same issues as his earlier book Has China Won? The Chinese Challenge to American Supremacy. The new one is a collection of essays that have been published elsewhere in a variety of sources, with a few interviews with the author thrown in. This results in an inevitable repetitiveness throughout. This is not only the case for substance, but Mahbubani has the tendency of using same phrases and metaphors and to cite same research multiple times. Having said that, one must largely agree with Mahbubani’s analysis and viewpoints or at least take them seriously.

The first part of the book is called ‘The End of the Era of Western Domination’ in which he makes the case that the West is in denial and must learn to act strategically in a world where it is no longer Number One. He likes to quote a prescient speech by Bill Clinton at Yale University. The then-President said that at the time when the US will become No. 2 in the world, it will benefit from clear international rules. This is an excellent observation but there are many Americans who won’t accept the inevitable that the US would not always remain No. 1 and it would be almost certain political suicide for any American politician to suggest otherwise. (The propaganda about American exceptionalism starts early in US schools and society, but is not unique to America: similar indoctrination is prevalent also in other large nations, not least in China and Russia.)

Much of Mahbubani’s writing focuses on the United States and here he is at his sharpest. His main point is that the US is no longer a democracy, but has turned into a plutocracy in which a rich minority dictates national policy. As he likes to say, it is now government of the 1%, by the 1%, for the 1%. He cites research by prominent authorities, such as the Nobel prize winner Joseph Stiglitz and the Financial Times columnist Martin Wolf, who have also observed this undeniable truth.  Evidence includes that the United States is the only developed country where the economic status of the lower 50% of the population has actually declined in the past three decades. He also refers several times to the “sea of despair” (a phrase coined by Princeton economists Angus Deaton and Anne Case) of American working classes, which led them to elect Donald Trump as president, mistaking his crude rhetoric for concern for the working poor, not realizing that Trump himself is a prime representative of the plutocracy. Again, despite all evidence to the contrary, most Americans are in denial that their country would no longer be a democracy.

At the root of the current situation is the Thatcher-Reagan revolution of the 1980s. It was—and remains—popular when Reagan made his speech, stating that government is not the solution to your problems; government is the problem. Mahbubani is obviously absolutely correct that this dogma of unfettered markets fixing all problems has led to many, if not most, of the problems the American society (and many others) now are beset with. Mahbubani quotes another Nobel laureate, Amartya Sen as saying that societies are best when they combine the invisible hand of markets with the visible hand of good government.

Mahbubani identifies three strategic mistakes that were made that led to the troubles that we are now experiencing. First was the failure of the elites to protect the working classes from the inevitable disruptions caused by globalization. This was partly due to the illusion of the “end of history”, as proclaimed by Francis Fukuyama, that the Western capitalist democracies had won the global competition and would thus not have to adjust to new realities. Mistake number two was the trust placed in markets and the intentional weakening of government institutions in the US. The third and final mistake was caused by the antipathy of the American business elites to paying attention to the larger social concerns, which then led to the creation of the plutocracy. Logically, they are all fixable, but it is impossible to fix a problem if you deny its existence.

The title of the book refers to the 21^st century belonging to Asia, the focus of the second part: ‘The Asian Renaissance’. It makes a historically accurate points that the past 200 or so years have been an anomaly in world history. Before that China and India’s were the two largest economies in the world. The standards of living were higher in Asia than in Europe for much of preceding history. It was Western colonialism and imperialism, enforced by military might, that changed this. Now, China and other Asian countries are just returning to their rightful place in the world as powerful countries in their own right. It is a dangerous moment as the current hegemon, USA, is in decline (at least in relative terms) but wants to ensure its continued primacy. Mahbubani cites ample statistical data to back up this contention.

He makes the great point that if American policymakers truly believed that state-led economic policy is detrimental and that markets steer capital to the most optimal allocations, why would the US harp about the Chinese government interfering in the country’s economy? Why not just let China waste its resources through planning and state-led policy? The undisputed truth is that all current developed countries have used state-led economic policy and protection of infant industries as tools during the phase when they were rising. Now they want to deny this right from other countries threatening the interests of their multinational companies and their primacy.

Mahbubani also cites the Asian response to the Covid-19 pandemic. The mortality rates paint a picture that suggests that most Asian countries have done much better than those in the West (both North America and Europe). Perhaps, however, countries like Japan, Korea, Vietnam or Singapore (as well as New Zealand and Australia) are better examples than China where the Zero-Covid policy has led to draconian lockdowns and major societal disruptions.

The third part of the book is entitled ‘The Peaceful Rise of China’. Mahbubani has strong faith in China, which may at times seem misplaced. He admits that China is not perfect but that the mistakes that have been made are excusable. He claims that China is not expansionist and does not seek to export its model of governance beyond its own borders. As evidence, he cites that China over its thousands of years of history has not sought colonies. Yet, its actions towards Taiwan (which it considers an inalienable part of One China) and around the South China Sea cast doubt on this claim. (Of course, it would be unthinkable that China would conduct “freedom of navigation” patrols in the international waters of the Caribbean, like the US and its allies do in the South China Sea.) It may be that China prefers to concur the world through economic means, like its Belt and Road Initiative would suggest. President Xi Jinping has, however, gone on record suggesting that China’s example provides an alternative development model to current developing countries (as it obviously does; again, after the fall of communism in Europe, there was a naïve belief that, given the opportunity to vote, all people in the world would naturally choose liberal democracy; a belief that was proven dramatically wrong in Egypt and in countries that US and NATO would “liberate”, in Iraq and elsewhere.)

Mahbubani also casts an understanding eye on China’s crackdown of democracy protests in Hong Kong, writing that no society tolerates violent protest and the Chinese did well in quelling such protests in Hong Kong with no lives lost (in contrast to several protest events in the US where people were killed). He also reminds us that, in general, state should have the monopoly on violence; a very valid point which, however, may not sit well with Second Amendment enthusiasts in the United States.

Overall, Mahbubani argues that, as opposed to the American plutocracy, China is a true meritocracy. This is then reflected in the highly competent government in the country an the fact that China has the highest government approval ratings anywhere in the world. He points out (several times) that the past four decades have been the best for the Chinese people in the country’s 5000-year history. The approval ratings are verifiable and may be in response to good governance (the Chinese people have made a bargain with their leaders: as long as the economy continues to grow, political rights are secondary), although one also suspects that they reflect the significantly increased patriotism among especially young Chinese caused by indoctrination and censorship (see, e.g., Tracy Wen Liu’s article in the spring 2022 issue of Foreign Policy). The fact remains that the West (and especially the US) loses many of the brightest graduates to the private sector due to the salary differential and the anti-government sentiment. Singapore, where Mahbubani is from, is arguably the most meritocratic and best run country where the best graduates go to government jobs, which are well paid and powerful (perhaps out of modesty, Mahbubani does not emphasize this).

The final part focuses on ‘Globalization, Multilateralism and Cooperation’. Mahbubani is a strong proponent of multilateral action, both at the global (the United Nations) and regional (EU, ASEAN) levels. He rightly underscores that many of the problems that the world faces—the pandemic, climate change, migration, the global economy—are beyond the ability of nation states to manage. He berates the United States and the West more generally for intentionally weaking multilateral institutions, such as the WHO which would be needed more now than ever. He recognizes that powerful countries think that multilateralism constrains them, but points out the fallacy in this argument. One of his metaphors repeated a couple of times is that today’s world is like a cruise ship with nation states as cabins. It doesn’t make sense only to keep the individual cabins clean without taking care of the entire ship.

Mahbubani is a strong believer in globalization, free trade, and competition. He laments the isolationist tendencies that populist leaders around the world favor. The US withdrawal during President Trump’s tenure from the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP) is one of his targets. He also believes that economics will trump military strength and, therefore, in terms of four-letter abbreviations, the RCEP (Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership that brings together 15 nations in the Asia-Pacific region)  will be more powerful than QUAD (the quadrilateral security dialogue between the USA, Australia, India and Japan).

He also emphasizes the importance of economic growth and frequently cites GDP growth figures as evidence of Asia’s (notably China and India) success. In this sense, his economic views are quite traditional. Although he mentions the problem of climate change several times, he doesn’t seem to make the connection to the growth in extraction of natural resources, production, and consumption as the drivers of climate change and wider environmental destruction. The problem with GDP is that it measures only economic output based on monetary transactions. It does not discriminate between positive and negative outputs, it doesn’t measure unpaid work (like, care of children or the elderly), and it is not negatively affected by reduced natural capital or environmental degradation.

Mahbubani clearly considers himself a practitioner of Realpolitik. His idols whom he frequently evokes include the legendary American diplomat George Kennan, the founder and long-term leader of Singapore Lee Kuan Yew, and Henry Kissinger. The latter sounds odd, even callous, given how much blood, especially Asian blood (think, Vietnam, Cambodia, Bangladesh…), the man has on his hands.

Kishore Mahbubani is a significant thinker on the global policy arena. Reading him is stimulating. He is not afraid of slaying sacred cows. This is not a book to the liking of those who think that the US is the greatest country on earth and that Western style democracy will always win, but it is them who would most benefit from reading it.

Ympäristö, ilmastonmuutos ja arviointi – kohti kokonaisvaltaista näkemystä

Elämme antroposeenissä, jossa ihmisen toiminta on tärkein maapallon luontoa muokkaava tekijä. Tämä tuo uusia haasteita kehityspolitiikalle ja -ohjelmille sekä niiden arvioinnille. Ilmastonmuutos on todellisuutta, jonka kanssa meidän on pakko elää ja yrittää sopeutua sen vaikutuksiin. Maaliskuussa 2022 hallitustenvälinen ilmastopaneeli, IPCC, julkaisi uusimman raporttinsa, jonka mukaan ilmastotuhot tapahtuvat luultua nopeammin. Lämpöaalloista, metsäpaloista, kuivuudesta, myrskyistä ja nousevasta merenpinnasta aiheutuu haittoja enenevässä määrin. 

Ilmastonmuutos on kuitenkin vain yksi vakavista ympäristöongelmista. Luonnon monimuotoisuus niin laji kuin ekosysteemitasolla katoaa nopeammin kuin koskaan ennen ihmiskunnan olemassaolon aikana. Ilman, veden, maaperän ja merien saastuminen on yhä erittäin merkittävä syy ylikuolleisuuteen maailmassa, vaikka sitä ei tule puhtaan Suomen kantilta aina muistaneeksi. Maailma hukkuu jätteisiin, joita syntyy aina vain enemmän ihmisten vaurastuessa. Maailman meret kärsivät muovijätteistä. 

Covid-pandemia on muistutus siitä, kuinka luonnon ja ihmisen terveys ja hyvinvointi ovat kiinteästi toisistaan riippuvaisia. Luonnon tasapainon rikkoontumisen seurauksena ovat lisääntyneet sellaiset zoonoosit, joissa virus siirtyy eläimistä ihmisiin. Kun ihmisen toiminta tunkeutuu syvemmälle aiemmin pilaantumattomaan luontoon ja metsät kaadetaan maatalouden, kaivostoiminnan ja rakentamisen tieltä, avaamme portin uusille viruksille ja hyödytämme niitä kantavia ihmisten parissa menestyviä eläimiä, kuten rottia ja lepakoita. Samaan aikaan esim. hyttysten levittämät taudit, kuten malaria, leviävät kohti napoja ilmaston lämmetessä. 

Kaikella yllämainitulla on tärkeä sosioekonominen ulottuvuus. Haavoittuvassa asemassa olevat ihmiset ja kehitysmaat ovat myös alttiimpia ilmastonmuutokselle ja ympäristön pilaantumiselle, kun eriarvoisuus maiden välillä ja yhteiskuntien sisällä on kasvanut. 

Evaluointi tarvitsee uuden perspektiivin

Tällä on merkitystä sille, kuinka arvioimme. Perinteisesti evaluointi katsoo ohjelmia sisältäpäin: tarkastellaan onko hanke tehnyt ennalta suunniteltuja asioita ja tuottanut sovittuja palveluita tai tuotteita. Tässä lähestymistavassa keskitytään arvioimaan ohjelman onnistumista erillään laajemmasta ympäristöstä ja välittämättä siitä, tapahtuiko varsinaista muutosta siihen asiantilaan, johon haluttiin vaikuttaa. Riskinä on, että yksittäinen evaluointi jää teknokraattiseksi rasti-ruutuun harjoitelmaksi. 

Todellisen muutoksen aikaansaaminen vaatii, että kehitys- ja ympäristöpolitiikan ja ohjelmien tulee keskittyä kestämättömän kehityksen taustatekijöihin eikä vain oireisiin. Esimerkiksi Maailmanlaajuinen ympäristörahasto (Global Environment Facility, GEF) on siirtänyt strategiansa painopisteen yhteiskunnallisiin tekijöihin, joilla on eniten vaikutusta ympäristön tilaan. Sen uudet ohjelmat pyörivät ruoantuotannon, kaupunkien ja metsäkadon ympärillä sen sijaan, että rahoitettaisiin vain ympäristöystävällistä teknologiaa tai suojelualueiden perustamista. Myös näiden ohjelmien evaluointi vaatii uusia lähestymistapoja. Jos tarkastelemme vaikka maataloustuotantoa kestävän kehityksen kannalta, emme voi keskittyä ainoastaan paikallistason hankkeiden tarkasteluun irrallaan laajemmasta kokonaisuudesta. Kolme päivittäistä tuotetta – soijapavut, palmuöljy ja pihviliha – ovat vastuussa lähes 80 prosentista trooppisesta metsäkadosta. Niiden vaikutus linkittyy paikallistasolta pienviljelijätuotannosta kansainvälisen markkinoinnin ja kuljetuksen kautta kulutukseen meillä kotona. Nämä kaikki tasot on otettava huomioon niin ohjelmoinnissa kuin sen arvioinnissakin. 

Tässä muutamia ajatuksia siitä, mitä tämä kaikki merkitsee evaluoinnille. Ensinnäkin, evaluoinnin tulee hahmottaa sen kohde kokonaisvaltaisesti. Jokainen interventio tapahtuu laajemmassa kontekstissa, ja se konteksti vaikuttaa monella tapaa intervention menestykseen. GEFin itsenäisessä evaluointitoimistossa teimme hiljattain kolme evaluointia rahaston toiminnasta kolmessa eri maaryhmässä: vähiten kehittyneissä maissa, pienissä saarivaltioissa ja haavoittuvaisissa maissa tai tilanteissa. Evaluoinnit osoittivat selvästi, kuinka maan tai alueen tilanne voi heikentää tilastollisesti merkittävästi ohjelmien tuloksia. Vaikuttavat tekijät liittyvät mm. turvallisuustilanteeseen, poliittiseen epävarmuuteen ja heikkoihin instituutioihin. Jokaisessa maaryhmässä on omat erityispiirteensä ja niiden sisällä jokainen maa on erilainen. Tämä kyseenalaistaa universaalien ”parhaiden käytäntöjen” löytämisen. 

Kaikki ohjelmat toimivat laajemmassa järjestelmässä, jossa eri osat – talous, politiikka, sosiaalinen ulottuvuus, muut ohjelmat – ovat toistensa kanssa vuorovaikutuksessa. Ei ole siten mielekästä tarkastella erillisiä hankkeita eristyksessä tästä muusta ympäristöstä. Näemme usein tilanteita, joissa hankkeet ovat saavuttaneet kaikki tavoitteensa, mutta niiden vaikutus laajempaan systeemiin on merkityksetön, koska muut seikat tekevät tavoitteet tyhjiksi. Ympäristöohjelmissa tämä on valitettavan usein lopputulos. Vaikka maailmanlaajuisesti ympäristörahoitus on noussut tietoisuuden ja kansainvälisten sopimusten myötä, jää se pahasti jälkeen ympäristöön negatiivisesti vaikuttavista toimista. Kokonaisrahoitus julkisista ja yksityisistä lähteistä ilmastonmuutoksen hillintään on nykyisin arviolta 590 miljardin euron vuosiluokkaa, kun taas maat käyttävät Kansainvälisen valuuttarahaston (International Monetary Fund, IMF) mukaan noin 5,4 biljoonaa euroa vuodessa yksinomaan fossiilisten polttoaineiden tukemiseen! 

Toiseksi on tärkeää ottaa evaluoinnissa huomioon sekä ihmisten että luonnon järjestelmät. On mahdotonta saavuttaa kestävää kehitystä, jos keskitymme yhteen toisen unohtaen. Jos luonnon järjestelmät hajoavat, voimme unohtaa myös sosiaalisen ja taloudellisen kehityksen, sillä ne perustuvat hyvin pitkälti luonnonvaroihin ja vakaaseen ympäristöön. Viime vuonna julkaistu Dasguptan raportti luonnon monimuotoisuudesta tekee tämän selväksi. 

Tämä ei päde yksinomaan ympäristöohjelmien arviointiin vaan ennen kaikkea ohjelmiin, joiden kohteena on taloudellinen kehitys. Voidaan näet todeta melko kategorisesti, että kaikella ihmisen toiminnalla on ympäristövaikutuksia. Ne voivat olla positiivisia tai negatiivisia, tarkoitettuja tai tarkoittamattomia, mutta evaluoinnin on silti tuotava ne esiin. Tässä siis toinen syy, miksi evaluointi ei voi keskittyä vain tarkastelemaan onko ohjelma tehnyt sen, mitä lupasi. Evaluoinnin täytyy identifioida odottamattomat vaikutukset, ei ainoastaan ympäristölle, mutta myös haavoittuville ryhmille, vähemmistöille, naisille, alkuperäiskansoille jne. On selvää, että jos nämä vaikutukset eivät ole olleet ennalta nähtävissä, niitä ei myöskään ole huomioitu ohjelman muutosteoriassa. Siksi evaluoinnin pitää katsoa kokonaisuutta laajemmin.

Monissa tapauksissa ei ole mahdollista löytää kaikkia niin luontoa kuin ihmistä hyödyttäviä ratkaisuja, vaan tarvitaan kompromisseja. Evaluoinnin rooli ei ole päättää, mitä sellaisissa tapauksissa tulee tehdä, mutta sen velvollisuus on tuoda esiin mahdolliset ristiriidat esim. luonnonsuojelun ja taloudellisen kehityksen välillä. Evaluointi voi myös valottaa synergisiä tilanteita, joissa kaikkien tahojen edut on pystytty maksimoimaan, ja siten edistää tietoa asian tiimoilta. 

Metodit evaluointikysymysten mukaan 

Kaikki yllämainittu vaatii monimetodista lähestymistapaa evaluoinnille. Ei ole olemassa ”kultastandardia,” jossa yksi menetelmä olisi aina muita parempi. Esimerkiksi kokeelliset menetelmät, joissa hankkeen tuloksia kohderyhmälle verrataan tilastollisesti kontrolliryhmään hankkeen ulkopuolella, ovat usein hyvin vaikeita käyttää todellisissa tilanteissa, joissa puntarissa on ihmisten ja luonnon hyvinvointi. Niiden käyttö voi sopia tarkasti rajattuihin hankkeisiin, mutta ei ohjelmatasolla tai laajempien yhteyksien ymmärtämiseen. Vaikka joissain tilanteissa voitaisiinkin näyttää tilastollisia eroja hankkeen kohderyhmän ja kontrolliryhmän välillä, on niiden selittäminen vaikeaa pelkän tilastoanalyysin kautta.

Koska GEFin hankkeet keskittyvät ympäristöön, käytämme niiden arviointiin usein geospatiaalisia menetelmiä. Kaukokartoitus auttaa näkemään muutokset aikajaksojen yli vaikkapa kasvillisuuden tuottavuudessa, metsäpeitteessä ja -tyypeissä, maaperän eroosiossa tai asutuksen ja tieverkon laajentumisessa. Tarvitsemme muita tiedonlähteitä, jotta voimme ymmärtää muutoksiin vaikuttaneet tekijät. Kenttätyö ja haastattelut ovat tärkeitä, mutta vastauksia voi myös etsiä jo julkaistusta kirjallisuudesta. Esimerkiksi evaluointimme GEFin metsänsuojeluhankkeista Kambodzhassa ja Vietnamissa paljasti, miten sama lähestymistapa johti varsin erilaisiin tuloksiin maitten välillä. Näiden erojen selittäminen vaati evaluaattoreiltamme paneutumista tieteellisiin artikkeleihin ja paikalliseen tutkimukseen. Näistä selvisivät ne poliittiset, sosiaaliset ja taloudelliset tekijät, joiden johdosta hankkeiden vaikutukset erosivat toisistaan niin merkittävästi.

Evaluointi voi auttaa meitä hillitsemään tehokkaammin ilmastonmuutosta ja ympäristön tuhoutumista. Tämä kuitenkin vaatii evaluoinnilta uutta, laajempaa perspektiiviä. Meidän on tarkasteltava ohjelmia ja hankkeita kokonaisvaltaisesti. Systeemiteoreettisesti nähtynä nämä ovat osa laajempaa rakennetta. Pystymme näkemään ihmisen ja luonnonjärjestelmät yhtenä toisiinsa liittyvänä kokonaisuutena ja myös huomioimaan ennakoimattomat vaikutukset. Tällöin evaluointi pystyy tuottamaan hyödyllistä tietoa perusteellisemman muutoksen aikaansaamiseksi.

[Published originally in the 2021 Annual Report on Evaluation by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Finland.] 

Is our vision of success, work and school warped?

Photo by author (2021)

Why do we work? Most of us work so that we earn enough of money to survive and to fulfil the needs and desires that we have. In addition, many of us work for some vague sense of duty—we’ve been socialized to think that hard work is a value in and for itself. Then many of us work to gain prestige and power. All of these are as good reasons as any; quite human in their own right.  But do they make sense? Of course, very few of us can afford not to work—and in the capitalist society in which inequality has grown to mindboggling dimensions, many people have to work multiple jobs just to make ends meet. But when our motivation is to work in order to make more money than other people and thus gain power over them, I have to say that I disagree. And the education system is fully complicit in this enterprise, affecting in particular a rather small segment of families who are determined that their kids must make it to the top.

 There is the old story about a rich man watching a fisherman leisurely go about his occupation, and the former advising the latter about how he could increase the efficiency of his operation and therefore accumulate more so that his could become a profitable and expanding business and the fisherman could become rich. When the fisherman asks why should he do that and what would he do once he’s become rich, the answer is: Then you’d be free to go fishing! This story has so much truth that it’s far more important than the joke it’s designed to be. We work hard for best 50 years of our lives (those of us who survive that long, as many succumb en route—the US life expectancy has actually dropped over the past several years) to enrich ourselves and to rise up in economic and social hierarchy, foregoing leisure and often sacrificing our families in the process, so that we can finally do what we want to do—except that it’s too late by then.

We’ve been programmed to aspire to things that are detrimental to our happiness and wellbeing.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s great to work hard for the things that you’re really interested in. Work can bring satisfaction and meaning to life. It’s a truly lucky person who can make a profession of the thing that she or he loves. It can be anything: arts or science, craftsmanship or cooking, or caring for others or the environment. Or anything else that makes one tick. This is what the Japanese term Ikigai implies: choose your profession based on where three things meet: what you love, what you’re good at, and what the world needs (some add a fourth dimension: what you can be paid for).

Unfortunately, few people live by this principle. For many it is not a choice.  For many others, it is a conscious choice. When they are young, they have a passion, but decide to forego it in favor of a “good and respectable” profession, hoping perhaps that it may become their passion once they get into it, but more often deluding themselves that they can enjoy life after they’ve made it professionally and financially. Too often, it is the competition for more money and a higher position that itself becomes the passion. We dedicate our lives to something that brings us social status, never mind what the content of the work is, even if it is socially or environmentally destructive. In the process, we lose the friendships and relationships we used to cherish and the thing that once was our passion is, at best, put on the backburner.

For many people, the sign of success is to make so much money that one can retire early enough to have some life left to enjoy. To me, this is an unmistakable demonstration of the fact that you feel that your life (and I say “life” instead of “work” because life becomes work when we dedicate everything to it) is actually undesirable and stressful.

Today I was thinking about my own path. When I was a kid, I was passionate about music. I couldn’t imagine living a day without dedicating the better part of my waking hours to music. At some point I realized that I was not talented enough to have a meaningful existence as a musician. So I was thinking about alternatives. I started musicology studies at the university. I thought that I could become a music researcher or even that I could simply become a librarian. As I also loved books and literature, I could have a quiet and regular life in the library that would pay my bills and in the evenings I could play in a band and hang out at clubs.

At some point of time, I changed my thinking. Perhaps it was the implicit expectations of my parents who were high-stakes professionals. So I started studying geography and social sciences, continued all the way to a PhD. My career came to focus on international development and environmental issues, so I didn’t entirely sell out—I was at least determined to do something that I was interested in and something that was good for society. But amazingly—now in retrospect—music that I thought was the backbone of my life faded to the background for many long years. I became immersed in the international environment work and the political circles in that field. Now I regret that I stopped practicing music, stopped playing in bands, don’t anymore know what goes on in the field, got disconnected from the good people who used to be the center of my life—many of whom found a way of making a living in or around music and who still hang out at the clubs and concerts where new music is being played.

I sometimes regret having worked so hard and long hours, traveling so much and moving around following a rising career, that I lost all of the above.

America where I have lived for the past quarter century is probably the worst, at least compared with Europe where I grew up. Here one’s success and prestige is measured almost exclusively in money and media visibility. It’s also a very aggressive and competitive society. And this competitiveness starts very early in life—in fact, earlier and earlier, as ambitious parents program the lives of their kids from kindergarten and even before, pushing them to work hard and excel. This makes life a living hell for many kids, especially those from “better” families; families that want their offspring to go to an elite university and to get a well-paid job as a lawyer or doctor or a successful businessperson.

We see the results of this in sharply risen depression and teenage (and even younger) suicides. Child psychology indisputably shows that for a healthy development of the brain children need plenty of unstructured free time so that they can explore their thoughts and interests and develop their personality. Children whose time is overscheduled demonstrate frequent behavioral issues and emotional challenges. Not only do they lose their creative minds, they get a warped view of the world, seeing everything—including relationships—as transactional.

This truth is of course an anathema to most “successful” parents who want their children to “succeed” in the same manner. Children’s free, creative time is totally obliterated by the Ivy League and other “selective” universities’ emphasis on “well-rounded” candidates. Being well-rounded is a code word for an idealized candidate who not only excels at the relevant academic subjects, but who also is a star athlete, is proficient in playing an instrument, volunteers their time for the community—all the while taking advanced placement classes at high school so that they’ll have a leg up at college admissions. To me, this is a recipe for misery and disaster. Instead of mental and physical relief freeing the mind, the “hobbies” become a chore and an obligation; helping out in the community just another way of enhancing one’s resume.

The Ivy League and other equivalent universities are not demonstrably advantageous to students’ learning. Sure, they have many academic stars on faculty, but since when does being an academic star make one a good teacher? In fact, you may often find more dedicated and competent teaching faculty in less prestigious colleges (even community colleges). The truth is that these elite universities do not sell education that is so superior to lesser places. What they sell is a dream. A dream of an education amongst the smartest professors and students money can buy, an education that allows the students to join an exclusive club of elites themselves. A capitalist dream.

Selectivity is the main selling point for these universities. Selectivity shows how difficult it is to get in, which in turn suggests that everyone who did belongs to a clique of assumed geniuses. (Never mind that many of those admitted are legacy admissions or offspring of wealthy donors or just happen to fit into the suitably “well-rounded” or diversity profile that was in demand at a specific moment.) Scarcity creates value and that is why elite universities strictly limit the number of students they take in, even if they had the capacity to educate many times more.

In the US (and in places like China and some other Asian countries) a kid must sacrifice her or his childhood to pass the bar to an elite university, a rite of passage many kids—and their parents—see as the essential ticket to a satisfying life. This is very different from most parts of Europe where, in the first place, most universities are public institutions that all maintain a similar level of quality. In places like France, anyone can start studying at a university, so one doesn’t need to struggle through sleep-deprived teen-age years to get into one. Consequently, people study more what they want, many never graduating (it helps, too, that higher education is free or cheap, as it should be for something so essential to society). This is not wasteful because it results in people being able to explore and learn things that interest them; and, for society, a better educated and informed population is a great advantage (although some Americans, especially on the right, think they benefit from an ignorant electorate).

A degree from Harvard, Yale or Princeton sounds impressive and may open some doors to fancy clubs and circles—at least if your family background is respectable. In that sense, a less than spectacularly talented legacy scion will trump, hands down, a brilliant scholar from a poor or minority background.

Frank Bruni in his excellent book, Where You Go Is Not Who You’ll Be, demonstrates that in reality, for most people, there is little correlation between the university where they went and their success in life. When he did his research just a half a dozen years ago, he found that only about 30 of American-born CEOs of the top-100 companies had attended an elite university; and the same goes for the 100 members of the US Senate, where fewer than 30 had got their degrees from Ivy League or equal colleges. Instead, about half of these success stories had attended a variety of less known colleges not to be found in the top-25 listings. For the vast majority of people, in the public or private sector, there is even far less correlation.

What is worse, even the above defines “success” as becoming wealthy and powerful. Some of these people may of course be happy, but I’d bet that most of them thrive on prestige and power that money brings, rather than the actual content of their work or the societal good that it brings.

Which brings me back to where I started. Shouldn’t we be pursuing a fulfilling life, of liberty and happiness? And shouldn’t we be doing it now, rather than when we’re too old to enjoy it fully? In the words of John Lennon: Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.

Another sage, Timothy Leary suggested we’d be better off to turn on, tune in and drop out. As I grow older, I see even more clearly how right he was.

My daughter is still young. She has a remarkably creative mind and a wild imagination, like children do. Our priority as parents is to help her never lose these qualities. We do not want her ever feel so stressed out that she feels sick or loses sleep. We want her to pursue a life of happiness and wonderment, following her passion wherever it may take her.

For myself, I have decided not to do anything anymore for the sake of prestige, a higher position, more money or power. I will continue working on things that bring me fulfilment and that society benefits from, even to a small degree—and I have started to reactivate the musical side of my life, making a point of listening to new music and picking up my beloved flute that I’ve been packing along through all these years. Ikigai has been translated as the reason why one wants to get up in the morning. There are so many wonderful things in this world that can give you reason. Going to the office in a crowded commuter train or sitting in a traffic jam, just so that you can impress a bunch of colleagues, is not one of them.

[Published in Medium.com]

What should evaluation learn from COP 26? Views of evaluation practitioners

The editor of the journal Evaluation, Prof. Elliot Stern, had an idea to invite a bunch of evaluators working on climate change and related issues to write down their thoughts on the recent UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) COP26 and its implications to evaluation practice. I was honored to be among those invited to write. The resulting article is available (open access) here on the journal website.

Abstract:

Leading evaluation practitioners were asked about lessons from the recent 26th Conference of the Parties (COP26) for evaluation practice. Contributors emphasize the importance of evaluating equity between rich and poor countries and other forms of climate injustice. The role of the evaluation is questioned: what can evaluation be expected to do on its own and what requires collaboration across disciplines, professions and civil society – and across generations? Contributors discuss the implications of the post-Glasgow climate ‘pact’ for the continued relevance of evaluation. Should evaluators advocate for the marginalized and become activists on behalf of sustainability and climate justice – as well as advocates of evidence? Accountability-driven and evidence-based evaluation is needed to assess the effectiveness of investments in adaptation and mitigation. Causal pathways in different settings and ‘theories of no-change’ are needed to understand gaps between stakeholder promises and delivery. Evaluators should measure unintended consequences and what is often left unmeasured, and be sensitive to failure and unanticipated effects of funded actions. Evaluation timescales and units of analysis beyond particular programmes are needed to evaluate the complexities of climate change, sustainability and to take account of natural systems. The implications for evaluation commissioning and funding are discussed as well as the role of evaluation in programme-design and implementation.

Confronting Storms, Fires, and Pestilence: Meaningful Evaluation for a Hazardous World

The world as we know it would appear to have suddenly become more hazardous than ever before in our living memory. This may not actually be so considering the entire hazardscape, but the types of societal threats have changed. The sweet complacency of the affluent West has been disrupted. Instead of history ending in an unstoppable march of globalisation and economic growth, we are suddenly faced with natural and social calamities that threaten the sustainability of our common future. 

Before looking at the role of evaluation in development and transformational change, the root causes of destruction are examined, along with the maldistribution of the repercussions of this destruction. It is argued that evaluation must take a broad view within a complex system that includes the natural environment if it is to make a contribution to a world that is socially, economically, and environmentally sustainable.

The full article is available (open access) in the journal Evaluation Matters—He Take Tō Te Aromatawai 7:21.