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Norman Borlaug. For those who don’t know the name, he is the father of the Green Revolution. In the 1960s, while the likes of Paul Ehlrich were predicting widespread famine as a result of population growth, Borlaug was finding solutions. Borlaug is one of the reasons why agriculture works for us today.

Even so, many of his arguments go largely unnoticed. We so easily fall prey to the fad of the season that we ignore age-old wisdom. Here is an excerpt from an April 2000 interview with Borlaug by Reason.com:

Reason: What do you think of organic farming? A lot of people claim it’s better for human health and the environment.

Borlaug: That’s ridiculous. This shouldn’t even be a debate. Even if you could use all the organic material that you have–the animal manures, the human waste, the plant residues–and get them back on the soil, you couldn’t feed more than 4 billion people. In addition, if all agriculture were organic, you would have to increase cropland area dramatically, spreading out into marginal areas and cutting down millions of acres of forests.

At the present time, approximately 80 million tons of nitrogen nutrients are utilized each year. If you tried to produce this nitrogen organically, you would require an additional 5 or 6 billion head of cattle to supply the manure. How much wild land would you have to sacrifice just to produce the forage for these cows? There’s a lot of nonsense going on here.

If people want to believe that the organic food has better nutritive value, it’s up to them to make that foolish decision. But there’s absolutely no research that shows that organic foods provide better nutrition. As far as plants are concerned, they can’t tell whether that nitrate ion comes from artificial chemicals or from decomposed organic matter. If some consumers believe that it’s better from the point of view of their health to have organic food, God bless them. Let them buy it. Let them pay a bit more. It’s a free society. But don’t tell the world that we can feed the present population without chemical fertilizer. That’s when this misinformation becomes destructive.

How often do you see a rational argument about organic farming? How often do you see a humanitarian argument against organic farming? Not often enough. Borlaug has been saying this for half a century.

Full interview HERE.

Do we have a moral obligation to assist those in need?

This question is rarely brought to the table. More often, those who do give are commended for their outstanding commitment to charity. They are applauded for their good will. But is there really a moral basis for accepting that the norm is inaction, while the exception is service?

Peter Singer makes no effort to hide his stance. In 1971, he wrote a short paper titled, “Famine, Affluence, and Morality.” Here, he lays the framework for what I find to be a thought provoking argument for our collective moral imperative to act when we know that others are suffering.

His argument goes like this…

- “Suffering and death from lack of food, shelter, and medical care are bad.” Tough to argue with that one.

- “If it is in our power to prevent something bad from happening, without thereby sacrificing anything of comparable moral importance, we ought, morally, to do it.” Singer offers the analogy of walking past a shallow pond and seeing a child drowning in it. The passerby should certainly wade in and pull the kid out. Sure, they will get wet and muddy, but relative to the child drowning, wet clothes are of no significance.

- If the above premise is true, then why is it morally acceptable to do nothing while people starve abroad? Obviously, one’s proximity to suffering will affect whether or they will offer assistance. That says nothing about whether one should assist someone nearby or far away, however—given the reality that today we have virtually equal information on suffering at home and abroad, it seems that the moral imperative to act does not fade with geographical distance.

The paper goes on to argue that relatively wealthy individuals have the moral duty to give money to help those in need. If a person has the choice between spending $150 on new clothes that are unnecessary and giving the money to relieve suffering, they should feel morally compelled to give the money to those in need:

It follows from what I have said earlier that we ought to give money away, rather than spend it on clothes which we do not need to keep us warm. To do so is not charitable, or generous. Nor is it the kind of act which philosophers and theologians have called “supererogatory” – an act which it would be good to do, but not wrong not to do. On the contrary, we ought to give the money away, and it is wrong not to do so.”

I agree with the following points:

  • In general, people can do more. We too often choose not to recognize what is going on around us, and can do a better job for humanity.
  • The fact that widespread famines still exist in the shadow of such opulence is embarrassing (Niger?).

I take issue with much of Singer’s argument, however. Here are my two main contentions:

  • I do not feel that we are morally obligated to act on behalf of those who are suffering, mainly because I’m not willing to accept any form of universal morality. In my mind, there are many ways to live a life, but the fact is that we all have only one life. People need to live lives that give them purpose and make them happy. I just hope that people derive purpose and happiness from helping others.
  • Giving money to a cause does not fix the problem. How can we expect people to educate themselves on which organizations are making a difference? Are any organizations making a difference? 60 years of foreign aid to sub-Saharan Africa has failed to affect any steady economic growth in the region. What if investing in the private sector is the best way to have an impact? Isn’t part of the problem that the “beneficiaries” of aid programs are too used to receiving money and assistance? Would they be better off if they were left to solve their own problems for themselves? Without answers to these questions, Singer’s argument for giving money begins to crumble. To his credit, most of these questions weren’t being asked in ’71, but they are certainly relevant today.

Despite it’s weaknesses in today’s context, Singer’s premise still holds. Suffering and/or death resulting from lack of food, shelter, medical care, or education is bad, and if we can do something to stop it then we should. Shouldn’t we?

There has been a lot of noise in the development community lately about the concept of measurable impact. Prior to recent discussion, it seemed widely accepted that focusing on impact is the best way to hold NGOs accountable for their programs and force them to prove that they have more than just good intentions.

Industry-wide acceptance of impact measurement is now a thing of the past, however—development workers are striking back. The most substantial criticism comes from former USAID administrator, Andrew Natsios, in a paper titled, “The Clash of Counter-bureaucracy and Development.” Natsios’ central argument is that the drive for easy measurement of impact draws funding away from risky and less measurable programs such as governance and democracy promotion. Rather, funding is diverted towards programs that are easy to measure, like health.

Steven Lawry at the Hauser Center adds his two cents, arguing that our emphasis on metrics restricts the ability of non-profit managers to draw on alternative sources of knowledge, such as “formal studies, observation of trends in behavior, and feedback from partners and clients.” When funding is contingent upon projects being validated by clear metrics, Lawry argues, NGOs are forced to avoid risky and/or long-term projects that might not show results within the short life-span of an impact assessment. Alanna Shaikh, writing for Aidwatch, seconds this point: “Most development programs take ten years or more to show real impact. How are we supposed to bring that in line with government funding cycles?

This discussion—basically addressing the question of which NGOs/programs should get funding and why—is obviously extremely important. If an emphasis on metrics is actually diverting funding from risky and/or difficult to measure programs, then we have a major problem worth addressing. It is easy to imagine that within the bureaucracy of USAID this could be the case. Outside of aid agencies, however, I find it hard to believe that a focus on measurable impact is stymieing innovation. Why can’t an NGO based on a risky/unproven concept just as easily measure simple metrics to gauge whether or not the concept itself is viable? In addition, if a project has a ten year lifespan, why can’t metrics be used to measure expected impact within the first two years. Surely, most projects are affecting some change that can be quantified mid project cycle. Focusing on impact gives long-term programs clarity and encourages focus on intended outcomes. Likewise, measuring impact can enable NGOs to engage in risky activities, as it provides a framework for validating far-fetched or unproven interventions.

That being said, focusing on measurable impact can be misleading when it causes us to prioritize initiatives simply based on how measurable they are. Sidelining good governance programs because they are less measurable than health programs is obviously destructive to the broader process of development and is a impact measurement as a tool. Measure impact whenever possible. Expect NGOs to demonstrate that their programs are effective. Accountability in the development sector is a major step forward and impact measurement has played a role in this. But, as always, let’s not oversimplify things. The importance of/need for a program cannot be defined by how easy its impact is to measure—impact measurement is meant to test program effectiveness and it should be used as such.

Fertilizer micro-dosing is one of the most under-valued interventions for agricultural development. Micro-dosing is an incredibly simple concept. Fertilizer is an expensive input for farmers, so many farmers don’t use it. Many farmers who can afford fertilizer overuse it, making its use unprofitable. Micro-dosing takes advantage of the fact that a very small quantity of fertilizer has a huge impact on crop yields.

Bottle cap fertilizer application (BBC)

Yesterday, the BBC had a slideshow/article on fertilizer micro-dosing and the impact it has had on famines in Niger. It is great to see a simple and effective solution getting some publicity. All too often, the media hones in on far-fetched, but more sexy, interventions–complex irrigation systems, disease-resistant seed varieties, mechanized planting techniques, etc. But micro-dosing works because it is a simple technique that could be adopted by nearly any poor farmer.

The major challenge with micro-dosing is not proof-of-concept. Its efficacy is supported by a large body of research and practical experiences. The hurdle is behavior change. Changing the minds and planting techniques of millions of farmers is not an easy task. You can tell people to measure fertilizer with bottle caps, but poor farmers are used to NGOs and aid agencies telling them they have the answer. Farmers have been hearing these answers for 60 years and yet they remain hungry. Getting farmers to adopt new techniques, no matter how effective, is always an uphill battle.

One Acre Fund's fertilizer scoop

One Acre Fund, my current employer, has implemented a strategy for driving the adoption of micro-dosing that thus far has proven highly effective. We designed and manufactured “fertilizer scoops” that measure out the micro-dosage of fertilizer. When we deliver seed and fertilizer to our farmers (on credit), we also include a scoop. We have found that this simple product emphasizes the importance of proper dosing to our farmers. If we ask them to use a bottle cap, they are aware that it is a rough estimate and are tempted to just estimate as they pour. If they have a scoop, however, it is clear that we are advising a very exact quantity that can only be measured with the scoop. Farmers who receive scoops micro-dose fertilizer without our supervision.

The lesson here, often missed by the development community, is that having a solution is not enough. Understanding how to deliver proven interventions is equally important, and requires patience, creativity, and a lot of luck. Fertilizer scoops might sound like a useless piece of plastic, but farmers respond to them with behavior change, and that’s what we need.

Note: The BBC clearly has better photographers than One Acre Fund.

You have most likely heard about the World Cup bombings in Kampala, Uganda. Somalia’s al-Shabab militants have taken responsibility for the bombings, which claimed the lives of 74 people.

I live in Western Kenya and was not in Uganda during the bombings. They didn’t directly affect my life in any way. Today, however, it has just come to my attention that the bombings will seriously affect my work.

Fertilizer, improved seed, and our new fertilizer scoops

August is planting time for rural farmers in Western Province. We have enrolled thousands of farmers in a new program, where we will provide clients with improved beans and training on credit (we normally do maize).The snag: a large portion of our beans (~10 tons) was sourced from Uganda and has not yet crossed the border into Kenya.

In the aftermath of the World Cup attacks, goods are no longer moving freely across the Kenya-Uganda border. Trade between the two countries, although always a bit slow, is normally not a problem. Uganda and Kenya depend on one another for the trade of oil, food crops, seed, fertilizer, and more. For this reason, I didn’t anticipate any challenges with regard to transporting seed to Kenya.

Now, with two and a half weeks to go, I am left scrambling for an alternative (Kenyan) source for 10 tons of high quality seed. It can be done, but is far from ideal.

Obviously, my seed order is just a tiny part of the larger bottleneck that has developed. This year, Western Kenya’s bean farmers will likely find themselves in the midst of a major seed shortage–a complete disconnect in the supply system that they have come to take for granted.

This happens all the time. For anyone who has done business or worked for a non-profit in the developing world, having plans fall through at the last minute is part of daily life. Regardless of how meticulously you plan for potential challenges, something always arises. In my life this is manageable, as I have time and money to deal with such inconveniences. For poor Kenyan farmers, on the other hand, a market failure of this magnitude is absolutely devastating.

Paul Collier is one of the foremost proponents of the industrialization of rural Africa. Western romanticism of peasant agriculture, he insists, draws support for traditional farming systems while ignoring the harsh realities faced by the farmers themselves: extreme poverty, poor education, no health care, and persistent hunger. These aspects of life in the rural developing world are real and heartbreaking.

What is Collier’s answer? Stop putting money into smallholder agricultural development! He calls for an aggressive shift to commercialized agriculture in rural Africa. Collier wants rural Africa to take after Brazil’s example and go straight to industrial farming.

Collier is right that the commercialization of agricultural is an important process that all developed economies have undergone. But he demonstrates immense arrogance by unilaterally calling for the commercialization of a continent’s food production system. What I think Collier is missing is that commercialization does not need to be externally imposed. The rural poor are eager to make their farming systems more efficient and productive. The rural poor, if given the proper leverage, would surely see the benefits of large-scale production without being coerced by a western academic.

A locally owned commercial farm in Western Kenya

How can we give the rural poor the proper leverage to drive the development of their own farming systems? Develop smallholder agriculture!

Teach the rural poor to use their land productively. Once people can feed themselves, they can begin to invest in larger quantities of inputs, more land, machinery, etc. But the first step must be to teach people to grow enough food to survive and be healthy. Duncan Green, of From Poverty to Power, comments, “The problem here is that Collier, as so often, is ahistorical, or bases his analysis purely on European history. Recent take-offs in countries such as Vietnam show just how crucial investment in peasant agriculture is in the early stages of take-off – urbanization happens after that, but the starting point is the peasantry.” I agree with Collier that commercialization will be a vital step for poor agriculturally-based economies, but his skewed perspective blinds him both to the role of peasant agriculture in economic development and to the immediate, desperate needs of the world’s rural poor.

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