The High Death-toll of American Traffic

Earlier this year, my wife witnessed a pedestrian being hit by a car on our city street in Maryland. It wasn’t tragic and no-one got badly hurt but the event was in some ways enlightening. There’s a four-way crossing with a bit complicated arrangement for the traffic lights. There’s a moment when all lights are red, both for cars and pedestrians, from all directions. This gives pedestrians the temptation to start crossing just when one of the lights for cars turns green. This is what happened this time around, too: a mother with a young daughter made the wrong decision to start crossing just when the driver saw it was her turn. The driver was in hospital scrubs, perhaps a doctor on her way to work, given that she was driving a Mercedes. She bumped lightly into the mother who fell, but quickly got up. Nevertheless, the police arrived a few minutes later. 

The New York Times did a widely publicized study a couple of months back about pedestrian deaths in the USA going up. They found that in 1980, pedestrian deaths in the US started to decline sharply, but three decades later this trend was reversed and has been going up since then. In this respect, the US is bucking the international trend of declining accidents involving pedestrians.

When it comes to overall traffic deaths (not only pedestrians), deaths per capita and per distance driven are highest in Africa. However, the US is an anomaly when it comes to advanced industrial societies. In the US, there were 12.9 traffic deaths per 100,000 people. This compares unfavorably with all European countries (e.g., in the UK, the number is 2.9; in Finland 3.8; in France 5.0; and in Sweden only 2.2), Australia (4.1) and Japan (2.5). Now, especially if you’re American, you would retort that Americans drive more. But the ratio remains even if compared with distances driven: USA 8.3 deaths per 1 billion vehicle-kilometers vs. 5.2 in Australia, 5.1 in Finland, 5.8 in France, 4.4 in Japan, 3.3 in Sweden, and 3.8 in the UK. By any measure, thus, traffic is more deadly in the US than in peer countries.

In 2021, 7,300 pedestrians died in the USA, three-quarters of them at nighttime. The NYT article put forth a number of reasons why this was happening. One reason is that speed limits on local roads in the US are often higher than in other countries. Another obvious one is that American infrastructure was built for cars, as opposed to countries where cities predate cars. NYT also suggests that US laws and cultural norms don’t penalize dangerous driving.

An important factor identified by the Times reporter, which also coincides perfectly with the timing of increased pedestrian deaths about 15 years ago, is the prevalence of smartphones. In the same period, car dashboards and control systems have become more complicated, especially with the rise of hybrid and electric vehicles. Both of these factors mean that drivers can become quite distracted fiddling with their electronic screens. I might add to the technological factor that cars have also become more quiet making their approach less obvious to pedestrians.

Each of these reasons is a likely partial explanation. I’d like to focus on the cultural dimension.

The Times article points out that there has been a geographical and demographic shift where more people have moved to the sunbelt in the south where urbanization came later and roads and cities were built particularly for cars. Data show that in the older cities (like New York City or Chicago), pedestrian deaths have actually fallen but they have risen steeply in suburbs where sidewalks and public transit options are lacking. This is combined with the “suburbanization of poverty” whereby poorer people and immigrants often have been pushed out from city centers and have to walk along big roads to get to work. They also often have to walk during dark hours when they are hard to spot.

A friend of mine lives in a Virginia suburb not far from the capital. Their community is intersected by a big road on which speeds are often quite fast. As there is perhaps a kilometer between the traffic lights where pedestrians can cross, the residents petitioned the county to establish another pedestrian crossing between the two existing ones. The county sheriff didn’t allow this on the grounds that it would “encourage risky behavior by pedestrians.” Crossing the street on foot in one’s own neighborhood to reach shops and services is considered too risky and inconveniencing drivers.

But even in urban areas like ours where sidewalks exist and walking is common, the general mindset is that cars go first. Might makes right. This is the polar opposite of how things are seen in Europe where pedestrians in cities always have the right of way. I remember decades ago when I was attending driving school in Helsinki, I got slammed by the instructor for the fact that I only slowed down to let a pedestrian cross the road, instead of stopping fully. (That is another difference: In the US, few people ever go to driving school. They just learn with an older family member, then go to the department of motor vehicles and take a multiple choice test. Consequently, many drivers never internalize the rules of traffic.) Irrespective of the speed limit, in places like Finland the authorities judge that your situational speed was too high if you were not able to stop before hitting a pedestrian. You will get fined for that. Here it is not so. Cars drive fast, are hard and heavy, and therefore you have to give them way.

There’s a traffic rule that is uniquely American: the right to make a right turn against a red light. I’ve heard men say how great this is because it gives so much flexibility and reduces wait times. However, the rule is widely abused and few drivers remember that it still means that you’ll first have to stop at the red light to see whether there’s anyone coming from the left. Instead, people often just turn into the middle of a stream of cars forcing others to give way, as if it were the birth right of the person coming from behind the red light. At busy intersections there are “no turn on red” signs and even traffic light arrows that turn red, but these have little or no impact on many drivers. Needless to say, if there’s a pedestrian or a biker with the right of way, such drivers couldn’t be bothered to watch out for them. A former biking colleague of mine has been knocked over at least twice by drivers who didn’t recognize the equal rights of a bicycle on the street.

I remember years ago when living in Brooklyn, NY – another urban area with proper sidewalks where people walk everywhere – I was walking home from the subway. I was crossing at a zebra crossing in the same direction I was walking when a car turned right and almost hit me. The driver, a young white hipster-looking fellow, screamed at me from his window: “Watch out! If I wasn’t paying attention, you’d be dead.” I guess I should be happy that he was paying attention while speeding through a city block in his metal box (even if it was a Mini).

Another factor also identified by the NYT research is that Americans drive extraordinarily large vehicles and that their size has been steadily growing in the past 15 years. As cars get larger and heavier they also become far deadlier to those they hit. Furthermore, they have longer brake distances and are harder to handle. Even in the city where there can be no need for such a large vehicle, I often observe soccer moms driving a massive Chevy Suburban or Ford Expedition. It’s often hard to even detect a small lady from the cockpit of the truck.

In 2023, the list of best selling cars, trucks and SUVs in the USA was topped by three massive trucks: Ford F-series, Chevy Silverado and Dodge Ram pickup (weighing between 1,800 and 3,100 kg). In Finland, in contrast, the top-3 the year before were Toyota Yaris, Toyota Corolla and Toyota RAV4; the two first ones being small compact cars (489-710 kg). A friend of mine who moved back to the Netherlands from Washington, DC, decided to sell his Prius because in his country it was considered unnecessarily large.

I claim that this trend towards larger and larger vehicles is also culturally determined. It sits well with the American image of a frontier man or woman, ploughing his own way forward irrespective of what or who comes in their way.

At the risk of stereotyping, there are certain kinds of drivers that may be more aggressive than average. One category consists of people driving luxury vehicles, possibly because such persons may feel entitled or just want to show off. There is some evidence for this. A research team supported by the Academy of Finland found that there are two types of people who drive what they called “high-status” cars: disagreeable men and conscientious people. (Their research was published in the peer reviewed International Journal of Psychology with subtle title, Not only assholes drive Mercedes.)  Even after controlling for wealth, these two characteristics stood out in statistically significant form. The researchers, led by Prof. Jan Erik Lönnqvist, concluded that “certain personality traits, such as low agreeableness, may be associated with both unethical driving behaviour and with driving a high-status car.”

This research is in a way confirmed in a 2023 report by a Finnish insurance company that found that BMWs and Audis top the list of cars that are involved in traffic accidents in Finland, with over 20% more accidents compared with other car brands. When it comes to collissions with animals (Finland has a lot of deer and other wildlife right outside of cities), BMWs are the unfortunate leaders, while Audis come second in this dubious list with 15% less collisions.

I also suspect a general American characteristic, which may be a trait stemming all the way from the kinds of immigrants this country attracted hundreds of years ago. The Europeans who voluntarily moved to the New Continent were not a random selection of Europeans. No, there was a preselection of people who were individualistic risk takers seeking their fortunes on the new frontier. While many were forced to leave due to food shortages caused by bad harvest, many were escaping established hierarchies back home, some being misfits in the more staid European societies. Even today, the USA is known for its emphasis on individual action and a me-first attitude. This may have produced many good things along the way, but when it comes to traffic behavior it does not emphasize safety. In fact, incidents of aggression, even road rage are a regular feature when driving in the States.

This cultural trait also makes Americans overall a very impatient lot. Drivers feel certain of their own rights. Bikers think that traffic rules don’t apply to them, so they seldom stop at red lights and feel free to ride against the traffic on one-way streets or jump on the sidewalk when convenient. For most pedestrians, it seems to be psychologically impossible to wait for the light to turn green. This impatience and sense of entitlement appears to have been the cause of the accident that my wife witnessed, when a mother and daughter ran against the red light just as an impatient driver stepped on the gas.

Integrating Environmental and Socioeconomic Domains for Sustainability

 This blog was published on the Global Environment Facility (GEF) Independent Evaluation Office website in connection with the 4th Conference on Evaluating Environment and Development, March 5-7, 2024.

The world is facing a triple environmental crisis of climate change, biodiversity and ecosystem loss, and pollution. Inequality between and within countries is on the rise. While many formerly developing countries now have moved to the middle-income category, many others have fallen into fragility and vulnerability. Tensions and wars proliferate: the number of armed conflicts around the world is now at their highest level in three decades. The current refugee crisis is a hot political issue all over the world.

The Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) recognize the equal importance of the social, economic, and environmental dimensions. However, current trends show that progress is highly uneven and that most of the universal goals will not be achieved by the target date of 2030. All these challenges are tightly interwoven. Therefore, the theme of the 4th Conference on Evaluating Environment and Development is integrating environmental and socioeconomic domains for sustainability.

On the environmental front, there has been a proliferation of treaties and funds, mostly focusing on climate change – the Green Climate Fund, the Climate Investment Funds, and the Adaptation Fund, just to name a few. At the COP28, in December 2023, the establishment of the Loss and Damage Fund was seen as a major breakthrough. While the GEF has long been the only one focusing on ecosystem management, the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework Fund has recently been added to its purview. There are also new international agreements developed on plastic waste and biodiversity in areas beyond national jurisdiction. These important developments hide the fact that financial flows still favor activities that are harmful to the global environment. IMF estimates that fossil fuel subsidies alone amounted to a mind-boggling $5.9 trillion in 2020, while total financing for the global environment from both public and private sources is estimated at $632 billion during the same timeframe.

For organizations like the GEF, it is not enough to focus strictly on conservation. There has been a realization that we must address the root causes of environmental degradation. This insight has led to the development of a set of programs that focus on critical issues, such as food systems and sustainable cities in an integrated manner. There is also a new emphasis on policy coherence, so that the strides made in the environmental arena are not undone by policies and actions in other areas. This problem has led to the paradoxical situation that while many projects succeed in reaching their objectives, the environmental macro trends are still declining.

This all has implications for evaluation. Lots of progress has been made and the environment is increasingly recognized as important by evaluators. However, much remains to be done. Evaluation is still largely focusing on individual projects without paying attention to the larger context in which they operate. Similarly, evaluations are still often ignoring the natural environment. The focus on individual projects also risks missing the unintended consequences of interventions, be it to the environment or to vulnerable groups, such as Indigenous peoples. If evaluation wants to contribute to sustainability transitions and remain relevant to the pressing contemporary problems, it must up its game and take a comprehensive look at both human and natural systems. Sustainable development happens at their nexus, if it is going to happen at all. I believe that conferences like this will help us move the needle in the right direction.

This conference brings together streams of sessions that deal with critical issues, building upon the science of integration and the importance of systems thinking. While there are sessions on the more traditional environmental issues – climate change mitigation and adaptation, sustainable forestry and land use, biodiversity, chemicals and waste – we also focus on the drivers of (un)sustainability. We look into how fragility, conflict and vulnerability influence program performance and how evaluation must incorporate them. Behavior change is another important topic for evaluation where innovation is needed. Similarly, inclusion, appreciating Indigenous worldviews, and decolonizing evaluation are areas where we are happy to partner with our co-sponsors, including the International Evaluation Academy and the International Development Evaluation Association (IDEAS). The Global Evaluation Initiative (GEI) brings us valuable perspectives from governments helping to mainstream the environment into evaluations. And I’m very pleased that we will have discussions on the role of the private sector and philanthropy, and environmental finance more broadly, as these actors are sorely needed.

It is my sincere hope – and conviction – that the conference will advance how evaluation can better and more effectively respond to the demands for sustainability in our interconnected world.

Three Exceptional Female Musicians at Strathmore

Over the past month, I've had the privilege of attending performances by three remarkable female artists who graced the stage at the Music Center at Strathmore, situated in North Bethesda, Maryland. What made these experiences even more delightful was that each artist brought her unique cultural background to the forefront, adding depth and diversity to the music they shared.

The first of these performances, on September 29, featured the Paris-based Malian singer-guitarist, Fatoumata Diawara. Her show was a masterpiece, beginning with subtle, nuanced songs, transitioning into hauntingly beautiful melodies, and culminating in a spirited, unforgettable finale. What stood out was the international composition of her band, with members hailing from different corners of the globe – keyboards, guitar, bass, drums – each contributing their exceptional talents. In particular, the rapport between the bassist and the drummer was remarkable. Regrettably, I wasn't able to catch the names of all the band members, nor could I locate them afterward. The sole African in the group was the Cameroonian drummer; the rest were of different backgrounds, adding a unique flavor to the performance. Fatoumata herself showcased her guitar skills during about half of the set, delivering skillful solos in the Afropop style, which contrasted distinctly with the band's Brazilian guitarist. Notably, Fatoumata has proudly declared herself as the "first female solo electric guitar player in Mali," although I suspect she could expand that distinction beyond the geographical boundaries of her native country.

Most of Fatoumata's lyrics are sung in Bambara, her native language. While I couldn't grasp the meaning of her words, I've learned that her songs draw from her region's tradition of "songs of advice" and tackle various social and political issues, from female circumcision to the rise of fundamentalist Islam in the Sahel. Her powerful yet beautiful voice was captivating. Moreover, it was refreshing to hear her speak between songs, touching on African themes and the challenges faced by women, without venturing into the realms of intersectionality or gender fluidity that are so common topics in today's discourse.

The performance reached its climax as the leader donned a traditional Malian mask and engaged in exuberant, controlled movements, presumably rooted in Malian tradition. The show's conclusion transformed into a dance celebration, with several women invited to join the band on stage. The entire audience couldn't help but join in the festivities.

On October 6, the Music Center once again attracted a large crowd, this time for Anoushka Shankar's performance. While Fatoumata Diawara had drawn a significant African presence, this evening witnessed a substantial South Asian audience. The pre-show atmosphere was enriched by an art exhibition featuring works by local Indian artists. As always, the bars on two levels of the concert hall were bustling, creating a lively ambiance. On the orchestra level, a DJ played soft Asian-influenced music, accompanied by a lone white woman confidently dancing to the rhythm.

Anoushka's music, while equally emotionally charged, had a more subdued quality compared to her African counterpart. The musicians performed seated on stage, bathed in a soft ellipse of light within the otherwise dim concert hall. The Music Center is known for its exceptional acoustics, which enhanced this highly nuanced performance. Anoushka, daughter of the legendary sitar virtuoso Ravi Shankar (and half-sister of Norah Jones), who also mentored her in her formative years, proved herself as a phenomenal sitar player. Her repertoire extended beyond the boundaries of classic Indian music, revealing clear influences of jazz, all while maintaining its foundation in Indian classical music.

The London-based ensemble, featuring Arun Ghosh on clarinet, Sarathy Korwar on Western drums, Pirashanna Tevarajah on Indian percussion, and Tom Farmer on double bass, showcased their mastery of both musical traditions. This quintet had premiered in India in December 2022 and received acclaim as one of Anoushka Shankar's most exceptional lineups over her nearly three-decade-long career. Each member displayed virtuosity, creating exquisite moods in intense jams as well as in meditative pieces. I do have to highlight Arun Ghosh, whoes clarinet performance was particularly outstanding—perhaps the best I’ve ever heard live—with moments of soaring brilliance and mournful resonance.

Anecdotes and insights provided by the leader added a personal touch to the evening. Anoushka mentioned that it was Sarathy Korwar's birthday, and, interestingly, he had been born in Bethesda but had never returned since infancy. Throughout the performance, the camaraderie among the musicians was palpable, and Anoushka's brief remarks between tunes conveyed her genuine warmth.

Although there was no dancing during this concert, it culminated in a standing ovation, indicating the audience's appreciation. I had hoped to greet the star and purchase a signed copy of her new mini-album, but by the time I reached the lobby, the line had grown so long that I decided to forgo it and head straight to the subway.

Nearly two weeks later, on October 19, it was time to experience Hiromi's Sonicwonder. The Grammy-winning Japanese pianist and composer was on tour to promote her recently released album, which shared the same name. In Japan, she goes by her full name, Hiromi Uehara, but in the West, her first name is sufficient, making her distinct from other artists. The band she led was another tight-knit ensemble of four incredible musicians, with the bassist Hadrien Feraud occupying a central role. The Frenchman's skillful play on the 5-string bass guitar seamlessly complemented Hiromi's performance. The drummer, Gene Coye, played a pivotal role in maintaining the rhythm. His marked the third performance by an exceptional drummer in this series of concerts, all of whom were previously unfamiliar to me.

What stood out for me was the trumpeter, Adam O'Farrill, whose melodic and expressive playing brought a calming element to the energetic repertoire. His broad sound and judicious phrasing added depth to the performance.

Hiromi showcased her incredible piano skills during the concert, alternating between the grand piano and two smaller electronic keyboards, sometimes playing them simultaneously. Her technical prowess as a pianist is truly remarkable. The majority of the pieces played were up-tempo, with frantic bursts and lightning-speed runs by the piano-bass-drums trio, which at times left me somewhat exhausted. Consequently for me, the highlight of the evening was the solo piano rendition of the Beatles' "Blackbird" that Hiromi performed as the first encore. This was no ordinary folk interpretation; Hiromi, a highly physical player, used both hands to expand the harmonies into new dimensions. It was a nuanced and sensitive rendition of the classic pop song. The band returned for a final performance, leaving the audience in awe. Sonic wonder, indeed!

These three concerts unequivocally demonstrated that creative music is alive and well around the world. The performances by these three incredible women, from Mali, India, and Japan, brought together extraordinary international ensembles, uniting musicians of diverse backgrounds and talents to create music firmly rooted in tradition, yet offering a fresh and unprecedented musical experience. 

On the trains: America has a lot to learn from abroad

The train sped through the rice paddies that shone intense green in the bright sunshine. Some of the paddies seemed already be turning yellow, somewhat early for the season in the beginning of August. Behind the fields rose the Ōu mountain range that separates the central valley of Iwate from the Sanriku coast. It was a hot, clear day but thick white and black clouds were lingering over the mountains. We were heading north towards the highest peak in the range: Mt. Iwate that reaches 2,038 meters above sea level and is the tallest mountain in the northern part of Japan’s main island, Honshu.

This was a local train with just a few cars, with seats arranged on the sides facing the center aisle, subway style. We could see the conductor standing behind the glass in his cabin at the front of the train. Beyond him, we saw the tracks opening ahead of us. The train was quite crowded on this Sunday afternoon. High school kids, boys in soccer uniforms, old people dozing off, middle-aged women with shopping bags. Two pairs of young people were wearing beautiful cotton yukatas that looked cool in the hot afternoon. I was the only gaijin – foreigner – on the train, which we had caught at the station in Mizusawa, my wife’s hometown, about 70km south of the prefectural capital of Morioka. While we waited at the Mizusawa station, tens of nambu furin wind chimes provided a lovely soundtrack in the light breeze. The Japanese Ministry of Environment has designated Mizusawa station as one of the 100 Soundscapes of Japan.

The train ran smoothly, reaching high speeds between the stops. The stops were rather frequent: not just the bigger centers of Kitakami and Hanamaki, but numerous smaller places: Kanegasaki, Rokuhara, and others. A few passengers were traveling with suitcases, heading to the Hanamaki regional airport, which in addition to domestic airports serves international destinations in Taiwan and Shanghai. Due to the frequent stops, the trip to Morioka took over an hour. We could have taken the shinkansen bullet train, which would have been much faster – the elevated shinkansen tracks run more or less parallel to the local train tracks – but would then have missed the pleasure of slower travel at ground level. Traveling on these local trains in Japan is to me a distinct pleasure. It gives meaning to the tired old saying, attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson: It’s not the destination. It’s the journey.

It is also such a joy to see that these local train lines are doing well and are in heavy use. They are carefully maintained and widely used by a variety of people. Apart from the bullet train and the local train line, there’s an superb highway – the Tohoku Expressway – that connects all these places. Yet, because of the excellent and affordable public transportation options, not that many people feel the need to jump into their own car. Consequently, the highway is not excessively crowded. Why bother driving yourself when you can just jump on a train and enjoy the scenery?

Despite my love for the local trains, I do appreciate the shinkansen as well. The bullet trains are, well, fast, smooth, reliable, and environmentally sound. It impresses me that the ride is so even that you can leave your drink unattended on the tray while the speed approaches or exceeds 300 km/h. The trains run so punctually that you can literally check your watch based on when the train departs. There is not even half a minute’s deviation from schedules (unlike in the US, where Amtrak staff only start thinking about getting the train ready a few minutes after the scheduled time). A couple of weeks ago we took the Yamabiko shinkansen from Tokyo to MizusawaEsashi, a trip of 500 km, which takes just over 2.5 hours.

Last April, I had the pleasure of taking the Nozomi shinkansen from Tokyo to Japan’s second city, Osaka, in the west of the country. That trip runs just below Mt. Fuji, Japan’s tallest at 3,776 meters. The iconic mountain boasts a perfectly symmetric cone rising close to the sea at Suruga Bay. Admiring the handsome landscape as we sped by it, I remembered years ago hiking to the top. It took several hours and, despite some additional oxygen, gave me a splitting headache. However, staying overnight on the summit was definitely worth it for the gorgeous sunrise over the Pacific Ocean. It’s easy to understand where Japan got its moniker as the Land of the Rising Sun.

These types of train are not the only ones in Japan. All major cities have functioning subways, and in many places – from Tokyo to Osaka to Naha in Okinawa – there are convenient and comfortable monorails running on elevated tracks connecting the cities to their airports. All rails in the country are, naturally, electrified, another major difference with the US. Of the Amtrak network, only the Northeast corridor, running from Washington, DC, to Boston, passing through Baltimore, Philadelphia and New York City, runs fully on electricity. The rest still relies on diesel and thus contributes to pollution and climate change.

The US situation is globally the exception. Countries from Europe to China have clean and efficient high-speed trains. As it happens, this year has allowed me to experience several of them. In May, I rode the Frecciarossa, which connects the north of Italy to the south, from Turin to Salerno. That train can reach even higher speeds, up to 360 km/h. I only took it from Rome to Florence to see a friend there. In July, while in Finland, I rode the intercity train from Helsinki to the second city of Tampere to visit another old friend. He had advised me to pay a few euro extra to reserve a seat on the second floor, which I did and could thus enjoy the scenery in quiet comfort (that is, until I descended to the restaurant car and joined a crowd of cheerful fellow travelers for a cold beer). The return to Helsinki was on an Italian-made Pendolino train, which is used in more than a dozen countries across Europe, as well as in China and some routes in the US.

Continuing from my native country to Switzerland, I landed in Zurich and had to travel to the capital, Bern, where I was to teach a three-day workshop hosted by the university. Naturally, I took the train. On the way back, there was an unfortunate delay due to an obstacle on the tracks, which forced the train to divert. The operators apologized profusely for the 6-minute delay in our arrival to Zurich.

This to me is the normal state of affairs. Virtually all developed countries have invested in high-speed electric rail networks. They are fast, safe, and environmentally sound. Only the US lags behind. Amtrak is losing money, with only the Northeast corridor operating on a profit. The ticket prices are exorbitant, making the train trip from, say, the national capital to New York City a luxury that is beyond the reach of many travelers. While the Acela trains would be capable of traveling at high speed, the state of the old rails prevents it from doing so, thus rendering the trip much slower than necessary – not to mention unreliable with frequent delays. As much of freight in the US moves by rail, the freight trains get the right of way, forcing the passenger trains wait for their passing.

Lack of basic services, such as reserved seats, even in business class, makes the boarding process into a mad rush, a deficiency that could so easily be remedied. (I do have to admit that there have been significant improvements to the boarding process at New York’s Penn Station, which I could experience early in the year.)

In addition, there are occasional derailments that give the perception that train travel is not safe. A recent poll showed that a majority of Americans think that traveling by private car is the safest mode of transportation, which obviously is far from truth, statistically. Still, derailments do happen and give Amtrak a bad rap. Recent ones include a derailment in Missouri in June 2022 and in Montana in September 2021, both of which resulted in loss of life. Add to that accidents, such as the February 2023 Ohio tanker train derailment in East Palestine close to the border to Pennsylvania, which spilled over 115,000 gallons of highly toxic and flammable vinyl chloride, it’s no wonder many Americans are suspicious of train traffic.

California, arguably the most progressive state in the union, has worked on a high-speed rail link between Los Angeles and San Francisco since the $33 billion project was approved in 2008. It was supposed to be completed in 2022, but is nowhere near there. The cost overruns are staggering. The latest estimates have placed the real cost to $113 billion. According to the New York Times, the difficulties have been mostly due to political compromises that have sent the tracks through various diversions through difficult, geologically complex, and costly routes in the mountainous and earthquake-prone area. With the costs escalating and the heavy delays holding back progress, political and public support to the project is flagging.

There are many explanations and excuses why rail traffic doesn’t catch on in USA. The above-mentioned difficulties with efficiency, cost, safety, and perceptions certainly all are important. There is also the issue of long distances. However, Europe is large, as well: it’s 3,300 km from Stockholm to Madrid, for example, or about the same distance as from Chicago to San Francisco. Distances in China are also long: about 2,300 km from Shanghai on the coast to Kunming in the Southwest. Americans take flying as a basic human right. But with the mess the airline traffic finds itself – frequent delays and cancelations, onerous security checks, crowded planes, poor service, unruly passengers – one would think that other alternatives would appeal to travelers. But for most people, the alternative that comes to mind is driving, even if it takes hours and sometimes days on crowded highways with aggressive drivers. Supposedly, this reflects the deep rooted individualistic on-the-road culture of Americans.

Then there’s the politics. In general, American politics from the Federal through State and local levels is highly contentious and polarized, making it hard to pass any major legislation involving costly investment. The general position, especially on the right, is that public investments – even as so much of infrastructure is crumbling – is unaffordable, as it would require raising the taxes for the rich. And, in particular, public transport smacks of socialism. In this atmosphere, making the needed investments for improving – and electrifying – the rail network would not be an easy task. The good news is that the $1.2 trillion Bipartisan Infrastructure Bill passed in 2021 does include $102 billion to improve rail infrastructure over the 2022-2026 fiscal years. It remains to be seen how far this will reach. But you have to start somewhere.

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]