In 1995, seven in 10 Nepalis lived in extreme poverty. By 2022, fewer than one in 40 did.

I. A Remarkable Story of Extreme Poverty Reduction in Nepal

Over 1995-2022, Nepal lifted 2.5% of its population from extreme poverty each year. Compared to the giants of extreme poverty reduction — China, Indonesia, Vietnam, Bangladesh, and India — Nepal’s pace is matched only by China. The extreme poverty rate in Nepal now is lower than in the considerably richer Indonesia, India, and Bangladesh. 

Nepal’s journey out of extreme poverty also looked very different from that of these other countries. These countries — responsible for the global decline of extreme poverty from 43% in 1990 to 10% in 2025 — did it through sustained growth, foreign direct investment, export expansion, and industrialization. Nepal had almost none of that: 

  • Real GDP per capita grew by 8% annually in China and by over 4% in Vietnam, India, and Bangladesh. Nepal grew by just 3.1% on average.
Chart showing that Nepal reduced extreme poverty faster than Indonesia, Viet Nam, Bangladesh, and India, with much slower GDP growth.
Nepal decreased extreme poverty extremely quickly.

  • Foreign direct investment was important in Vietnam and China, averaging 5.4% and 3% of GDP, respectively; in Nepal, FDI averaged just 0.2%.
Chart showing Nepal has grown more slowly than peer countries and had much lower FDI.
Nepal’s growth rate was slower than peer countries and it had low FDI.

  • Exports as a share of GDP soared in Vietnam and increased steadily in China, India and Bangladesh until the 2000s. In Nepal, exports fell from a high of 25% in the mid-1990s to below 10% today.
  • Manufacturing-led industrialization flourished in Bangladesh and Vietnam and remained strong in China and Indonesia over this period. In Nepal, industry’s share of GDP fell from about 20% in the mid-1990s to about 10% today.
  • Large-scale safety net programs targeting the poor were key in Indonesia and Bangladesh. In Nepal, such programs were not scaled and sustained. 
Charts showing agriculture as a percentage of GDP, industry as a percentage of GDP, exports as a percentage of GDP, remittances as a percentage of GDP for Nepal and peer countries.
Nepal has had little industrial or export growth, but remittances have grown substantially.

By nearly every conventional measure, Nepal moved backwards, except for one: its poverty rate fell.

So, what happened? Large-scale migration! 

Beginning around 2001, Nepali workers began leaving for the Gulf States and Malaysia in substantial numbers. The share of Nepalis living abroad doubled from 3.3% to 6.9% between 2001 and 2011, where it has remained since. Remittances, which averaged only around 1.5% of GDP before 2001, rose sharply to roughly a quarter of GDP since 2009.1

Nepal’s escape from extreme poverty was built not on factories or foreign investment but on the export of labor. Is this replicable elsewhere? Maybe. 

II. The Spectacular Rise in Gulf and Malaysia Migration 

Historically, India was the predominant destination for Nepali migrants. Somewhat unusually, Nepal maintains an open border with India, which has facilitated the movement of workers between the two countries. As a result, international migrants accounted for about 3% of Nepal’s population between 1960 and 2001, with India remaining the destination of over 77% of Nepali migrants. This migration was largely relatively local, mostly from western Nepal to nearby Indian cities. 

By 2011, Nepal’s migration map had changed dramatically. Although 2.5% of Nepal’s population still lived in India, migration elsewhere had expanded dramatically. Six in 10 migrants from Nepal lived outside India by 2011, with the share increasing to two out of three migrants by 2021. The shift was driven by rising migration to the Persian Gulf — especially Qatar, the United Arab Emirates, and Saudi Arabia — and to Malaysia, which together accounted for half of all Nepali migrants by 2011. 

Chart showing destinations of Nepali migrants.
Far more Nepalis migrate to the Gulf today than did 25 years ago.

Although the overall migration rate remained broadly unchanged between 2011 and 2021, destinations continued to diversify. The share of Nepali migrants in developed economies — across North America, Europe, Australia, and parts of Asia — rose to 18% from 3% in 2001 and 8% in 2011, led by Australia, the United States, Japan, the United Kingdom and South Korea.

The geography of migration in Nepal has changed – Gulf migrants come from across Nepal.

The Initial Push and Pull 

The sharp rise in migration after 2001 was due to a confluence of push and pull factors. Nepal’s first decade of democracy after 1990 had not delivered the prosperity and economic opportunities many expected. Industrial growth, led by export-oriented carpet manufacturing, rose in the early 1990s but lost momentum very quickly.2

Deprivation and frustration, especially in the poorest parts of the country, helped fuel the Maoist insurgency. By the late 1990s, the insurgency had made large parts of the country unstable. Things continued to escalate after the army was deployed in 2001. The years that followed were the bloodiest of the conflict, until its resolution in 2006.

As conflict and joblessness pushed workers out, rising demand for low- and mid-skilled labor in Malaysia and the Gulf pulled them in. Facing acute labor shortages in manufacturing, plantations, and construction after the 1997-98 financial crisis, Malaysia opened its doors to Nepali workers in 2001. At the same time, an infrastructure and real estate boom across the Gulf countries drove demand for construction, hospitality, and domestic workers from South Asia, including Nepal.3

The System That Made It Persist

Private recruitment agencies mushroomed to match the demand with supply, numbering over 800 by the 2010s. To find prospective workers, these agencies — concentrated largely in Kathmandu and a couple of other cities — relied on tens of thousands of individual agents whose networks permeated villages and communities with little or no prior experience of international migration.

The government took steps to facilitate migration. Decentralizing passport issuance to district offices in the early 2000s meant that prospective migrants no longer had to travel to Kathmandu to obtain one. The Foreign Employment Act of 2007 sought to facilitate labor migration while making it safer, better managed, and more decent. Agencies like the Department of Foreign Employment and the Foreign Employment Board were established to regulate and monitor the sector and improve migrant welfare. Bilateral labor agreements and memoranda of understanding were signed with destination countries to better regulate migration.4

With this, international migration from Nepal took off and kept rising. Nepal issued about 2,000 labor permits for migrant workers in 1995; by 2005, it was issuing more than 140,000. The Maoist conflict ended in 2006 and elections were held in 2008, but outmigration continued to surge. Passport issuance was recentralized during the transition to machine-readable passports from around 2010 to 2015, yet migration kept growing. After a brief slowdown during the COVID-19 pandemic, the numbers rebounded and exceeded pre-pandemic levels, with about 800,000 permits issued annually in recent years.

Chart showing the number of work permits issued for labor migration
Labor migration from Nepal has consistently increased over time.

Once networks, recruiters, systems, and expectations were in place, the original triggers mattered less. As long as overseas demand remained strong and promised higher wages, people continued to migrate for work.

The Appeal and Reach of Gulf-Malaysia Migration

Nepali migrants have three tiers of possible destinations — India, Gulf-Malaysia, and developed countries — with different sets of costs, risks, and return. 

India offers the lowest-cost, lowest-barrier option, given the open border, proximity, and established migration networks. This makes it accessible to poorer households, but the earnings gains are only modestly higher than in Nepal and job prospects are uncertain.

Higher-income destinations in North America, Europe, and Australia offer greater returns, but high costs and barriers related to visas, documentation, education, and financing keep them out of reach for most households. For many, student migration is the only viable pathway, further raising costs and delaying returns. These destinations are only accessible to the wealthiest Nepalis.

The Gulf countries and Malaysia offer a more attractive option for many households. Earnings are three to four times higher than in Nepal with very little uncertainty. Unlike migrating to India, where workers have to search for a job upon arrival, migrants already have a job lined up in advance before traveling to the Gulf countries or Malaysia. Recruitment agents help take care of passports, documentation, employment contracts, and visas. Although upfront costs of $1,000-2,000 are substantial, the credible prospect of steady overseas income made migration bankable. Many households borrowed to finance migration, and local moneylenders were willing to lend against expected earnings abroad and regular remittances sent to the family left behind. For moneylenders, lending to a migrant with an employment contract in Malaysia, for instance, presumably posed less repayment risk than financing migration to India or a business venture in Nepal due to the uncertainties involved.

Chart showing where Nepalis migrate based on wealth quintile
Poorer Nepalis migrate to India; richer Nepalis to developed countries.

High labor demand, combined with affordability, made Gulf-Malaysia migration available to a broad segment of Nepali households. More than 2,000 migrants now leave for these destinations each day, from all socioeconomic groups and virtually every part of the country.

The temporary nature of Gulf-Malaysia migration also mattered for remittance flows. With no pathway to residency or citizenship, workers had little incentive to relocate their families or invest abroad for the long term. After covering basic living costs, most earnings flowed back to Nepal as remittances. This combination of scale, accessibility, and remittance intensity transformed the economic landscape of Nepal.

III. The Transformation at Home

The opportunity to work abroad in the Gulf and Malaysia transformed Nepal. But there was no export boom, no large industrial parks, and no major poverty-targeted transfer programs. Instead, transformation began closer to home, with millions of households with family members abroad. 

Transformation of the Family

The most immediate channel for impact was the higher earnings abroad. In low- and mid-skilled jobs in the Gulf and Malaysia, Nepali workers could earn three to four times more than at home.5 These transfers raised consumption, helped repay migration loans, kept children in school, improved diets, financed home repairs, and helped families cope with shocks.

Higher incomes also translated into greater investment in children’s education, especially for girls who were lagging behind. With more resources and higher expected returns, families were better able to keep children enrolled and cover education costs. A 10 percentage-point increase in the probability of migration to the Gulf and Malaysia raised child enrollment by 4 percentage points and increased girls’ schooling by 0.26 years, making education one of migration’s most important long-run development channels.

Transformation of the Local Communities 

Beyond the immediate household, migration also reshaped local economies. With new income from abroad, families could purchase more things, raising demand for local goods and services. At the same time, the departure of young men tightened the labor markets, creating opportunities for women and poorer workers that remained.

By 2011, nearly half of Nepal’s around 4,000 villages had at least a quarter of their young men aged 15 to 40 living abroad. A 10 percentage-point increase in village migration rates raised wages for those who stayed behind by 25% and increased labor force participation by about 4 percentage points. This created opportunities even for households without migrants. Participation gains came mainly from women entering non-farm work and men working more in agriculture, while wage gains were strongest in agriculture for both men and women and in non-farm work for women.

Higher remittances increased local demand for shops, transport, restaurants, construction and other services. They also provided households, both migrant and non-migrant, with capital to start or expand businesses to meet the growing demand. In addition, returnees often brought back savings, exposure, and ideas for ventures they could pursue in Nepal.

Overall Impact on Poverty

Together, these effects improved living standards across the board and drastically reduced extreme poverty. Villages with higher migration rates to the Gulf and Malaysia saw larger reductions in poverty. Rising migration rates to these destinations alone explained 40% of Nepal’s poverty reduction between 2001 and 2011.

Chart showing the change in poverty rate vs change in Gulf-Malaysia migration rate by village
Where more people migrated to the Gulf, declines in poverty have been more pronounced.

Three factors were critical to this transformation: scale, affordability, and large earnings gains. Migration to India had only the first two, and so did not produce the same poverty impact. By contrast, Gulf-Malaysia migration reshaped local economies within a decade. Household by household and village by village, it became Nepal’s most important engine of poverty reduction.

IV. The Costs of Migration  

The impressive poverty reduction story of migration has not been without tradeoffs. Millions of Nepali workers took a gamble: borrowing heavily, trusting recruiting agents to place them in jobs in unfamiliar countries, and spending their prime years away from family. This was not easy, it wasn’t smooth, and it had some important consequences beyond the reduction in poverty. 

The Lives of the Migrants

The most salient risk is migrant deaths. Two thousand people leave every day, and about four of those will come back in a coffin, devastating their families. This translates to an annual mortality rate of 0.65 per thousand.6 Is that a high rate? Turns out it’s not. The annual mortality rate for Nepali men of the same age composition as migrants in Nepal is 2.3 per thousand, 3.5 times higher than that of migrants. In fact, the mortality rate of Nepali migrant workers is lower than that of men in Canada (0.8 per thousand) or the United States (1.4 per thousand) with the same age composition.7

While the mortality rate itself is not unusually high, the causes of migrant deaths deserve closer attention. Almost two out of five deaths are officially attributed to “natural causes,” cardiac arrest, or heart attacks; more than one out of five to traffic accidents and suicide. Understanding the specific mechanisms behind these sudden and catastrophic events is essential for prevention. Perhaps, better information, education, and training — particularly on hydration, heat management, stress, and mental health — could help save lives.

Abuse and Exploitation

Abuse and mistreatment are also widely reported, including contract substitution, excessive fees, unpaid or delayed wages, passport confiscation, unsafe worksites, and crowded housing. The same intermediation system that made migration accessible at scale also created space for exploitation. After all, recruitment agents and agencies know a lot more about the actual conditions than the migrants, and they exploit misinformation in their favor.

If other countries wish to emulate Nepal, they must be aware of these risks. Stronger monitoring of recruitment agencies, better enforcement against abusive recruiters and employers, and clearer information for prospective migrants can improve worker welfare. Prospective migrants, especially going abroad for the first time, value practical information: Even basic information on average wages and mortality risks can influence their decisions and behavior.

Changing Social Fabric

Perhaps migration’s greatest non-economic transformation has been its effect on family structure. Migrants are overwhelmingly men, and many spend long stretches of their young and most productive years away from spouses, children, and parents. These absences have consequences.

Migration might lead to greater empowerment and agency for women, especially wives who manage remittances, household budgets, and make farming and business decisions while husbands are away. Women may also make decisions differently, often in ways that favor children’s health and nutrition. This change, if it translates to participatory decision-making when husbands return, could strengthen family welfare and improve women’s well-being. But years of separation can also strain marriages.

Migration has also reshaped family formation. Evidence from a similar context in Bangladesh finds that unmarried men delay marriage and remain for longer in extended households with parents and siblings. The family may also move to cities and the plains. Over time, these private decisions add up to broader changes in household structure, intergenerational support, and rural settlement patterns. The 2021 census already documents population decline in 34 of Nepal’s 77 districts, mostly rural hill and mountain districts.

These changes may also interact with Nepal’s rapid fertility decline and affect sex ratios at birth. The prospect of male migration could further increase the economic value of a son, and accentuate the already strong preference for sons. Extended male absence may further accelerate fertility decline. Together, lower fertility and stronger son preference can intensify pressure to have a son and increase the risk of sex selection at birth. By 2021, Nepal had 112 males born for every 100 females — a ratio comparable to some of the worst-performing Indian states. Migration may not be the only driver, but it could be exacerbating an increasingly worrying trend.

Some are also concerned about the macroeconomic impacts of remittances. Evidence, beyond speculations drawing from increased consumption and wages, is, however, absent.8

V. Path Forward

In many ways, one might have expected Nepal to have seen stagnation, or even a growth in extreme poverty over the last two decades. There was widespread conflict in the 2000s, a major earthquake in 2015, and perennial instability of governments throughout. There were none of the usual indicators of structural transformation — no export growth, no industrialization, no East Asian miracle.

And yet: Extreme poverty is now rare. Nepal’s experience shows that migration can be a powerful driver of poverty reduction. It did not replace the need for growth and job creation at home, but provided sustained high incomes to the masses when domestic opportunities were limited. Millions of Nepalis have benefitted.

Can this model work for other low-income countries? It seems possible other countries may look to Nepal, for two reasons.

First, the development paths followed by China, Vietnam, Bangladesh, India, and Indonesia are becoming harder for today’s low-income countries to replicate. The prospects for growth by focusing on expanding rapid, labor-intensive, export-led industrialization look far worse than they did in the 1990s. Automation, artificial intelligence, protectionism, supply-chain disruptions, and geopolitical uncertainty are all reshaping global production in unpredictable ways. Countries that missed that wave will need other ways to deliver sustained income gains for poor households. Expanding access to better labor markets abroad offers one credible pathway.

Second, demographic divergence across countries has created a stark gap between where jobs are and where workers are. Wealthy, aging economies face growing labor shortages in care, construction, hospitality, and other labor-intensive services.9 Many developing countries, by contrast, have large and growing youth populations but too few jobs.10 Well-managed migration can connect workers where opportunities are scarce with jobs where labor is needed.

No country should build its entire development strategy around a single sector, product, or pathway. Nepal’s experience shows that well-managed labor migration can be a powerful complement to domestic job creation and poverty reduction. For many low-income countries facing limited domestic opportunities, migration may be an area they cannot afford to ignore. 

Maheshwor Shrestha is a Senior Economist in the Social Policy unit at the World Bank. He has led policy dialogue and programs on social protection and youth employment across countries in Sub-Saharan Africa, East Asia, and South Asia. His research focuses on migration, labor markets, education, health, and social safety nets in developing countries.

If you have comments on this article, or wish to contribute to the discussion, please email them to letters@indevelopmentmag.com. Responses will be featured in a letters section.

  1. At 24.2%, Nepal ranks fourth among all countries in terms of remittances as a percent of GDP since 2010. Tajikistan, Tonga, and Kyrgyz Republic are the top three countries. ↩︎
  2. At its peak in the early 1990s, the hand-knotted carpet sector employed over 250,000 workers and accounted for two-thirds of all exports. The sector was established by Tibetan refugees and had strong links to markets in Europe. However, starting in the mid-1990s, the sector faced reduced demand from abroad, in part due to concerns around the use of child labor and competition from other countries in the region. ↩︎
  3. Migration to the Gulf countries and Malaysia also increased from countries like Bangladesh, India, and Pakistan over the same period, perhaps in similar or even larger numbers. But relative to the population, Nepal’s outmigration was much higher. By 2024, the expected number of international migrants was 5% of the population in Bangladesh, 1.3% in India, and 2.7% in Pakistan, compared to 8.9% in Nepal. Likewise, the impact of migration and remittance in Nepal is a lot more salient. ↩︎
  4. The first Bilateral Agreement signed was with Qatar in 2005, followed by South Korea and the United Arab Emirates in 2007, and Bahrain in 2008. To date, Nepal has signed agreements with about a dozen destination countries in and beyond the Gulf countries and Malaysia, including South Korea, Japan, and the United Kingdom. ↩︎
  5. Based on average wages in Nepal and reported wages abroad. Rigorous evidence from Bangladesh for migrants in Malaysia finds a similar wage premium. ↩︎
  6. Mortality rate here is calculated based on data from 2009 to 2013. The comparison mortality rate is also around the same time.  ↩︎
  7. The comparison here is not meant to be a causal comparison. For instance, migrants are likely to be healthier than non-migrants of the same age and have a lower ex-ante mortality rate. But benchmarking helps move the dialogue beyond the headline numbers to more useful diagnosis and solutions.  ↩︎
  8. The typical argument for a potential Dutch disease effect is more complicated in the context of Nepal. Nepal’s exchange rate is pegged to India’s rupee, which significantly dampens the exchange rate appreciation effect. Also, unlike in the context of a typical resource curse setting where a small segment controls the resources and forex inflows, remittance flows to millions of individuals. So, the distortionary political economy impacts of the powerful elite controlling a large export sector is also absent for Nepal. ↩︎
  9. Some estimates suggest that the European Union will need 131 million workers from outside the Union by 2050 to maintain today’s working-age-to-elderly ratio. ↩︎
  10. For instance, 15 million jobs must be created annually just to absorb sub-Saharan Africa’s growing youth population but is falling far short of this target. ↩︎

Manufacturing may no longer be the growth engine it once was. What should governments in low-income countries bet on instead?

For much of the 20th century, manufacturing occupied a unique place in development thinking. After all, it was the engine that had transformed Britain, Germany, the U.S., Japan, South Korea and, more recently, China. Factories solved several development problems at once, by combining rapid productivity growth and the ability to employ millions of workers with little formal education. As people moved from farms to factories, wages rose, exports expanded and a growing middle class started to emerge.1 

But today’s manufacturing is different, and many economists no longer believe that this model, which has been the single greatest force lifting people out of poverty, can be replicated. This is not because manufacturing has become unproductive: quite the opposite. Factories have only become more automated and technologically sophisticated. As a result, they do not create as many jobs as they once did. Competing in global markets increasingly requires advanced capabilities, reliable infrastructure and dense supplier networks — the factors that many low-income countries lack and struggle to build. Meanwhile, China has become an extraordinarily efficient competitor in precisely the labor-intensive industries that once acted as the first rung of poorer countries’ industrialization ladder.

This is borne out in the data, which reveals a growing disconnect between manufacturing output and manufacturing employment. Countries can succeed in attracting modern factories, integrating into global value chains and expanding exports, but that no longer seems to generate the broad-based employment growth that characterized earlier episodes of industrialization.

The figure that follows illustrates this fact. It plots the manufacturing shares of total value added and total employment against GDP per capita from 1950 to 2010. It does so separately for two groups of countries, early vs. late starters, defined according to whether and when they graduated from lower-middle- to upper-middle-income status, a threshold of income per capita of $4,000. In early starters, the manufacturing shares of employment and value added were much closer to one another than in later starters.

Manufacturing shares of total value added and total employment against GDP per capita from 1950 to 2010.
Manufacturing was a better source of jobs for early industrializers. Source: Francesco Amodio, Pamela Medina and Monica Morlacco, “Monopsony Power and Structural Change,” Mimeo, unpublished (2026). See also Laura Alfaro, Marcela Eslava, Martí Mestieri and Luis Feliz Sáenz, “Jobless Industrialization,” Mimeo, unpublished (2023).

Mexico’s experience since joining NAFTA illustrates this tension. It is now a manufacturing powerhouse that is deeply integrated into North American supply chains. Yet the productivity gains generated inside export-oriented firms have spread far less to the rest of the economy than many had hoped. In Ethiopia — one of the few African countries to have pursued an aggressive industrial development strategy — manufacturing employment has expanded, but increasingly through smaller, less productive firms, as opposed to the kind of large-scale industrial transformation that powered East Asia’s rise.2

Manufacturing output and industry employment in Bangladesh and Ethiopia over time
Production grew – but jobs stayed relatively flat.

These experiences have led many economists — including Dani Rodrik, who was once one of manufacturing’s most influential champions — to reconsider an idea that had seemed self-evident. If factories no longer absorb labor on the scale they once did, perhaps they should no longer sit at the center of governments’ development strategies. Instead of trying to recreate yesterday’s model, governments should focus on raising productivity where most jobs are, and will be: in retail, transport, hospitality, construction and other labor-absorbing non-tradable services.

The crux of the argument, however, is this: Can targeted interventions in the space of non-tradable services really allow low-income countries to embark on a transformative development path? Can this sector ever absorb large numbers of unskilled workers into better jobs on a scale comparable to manufacturing in the past?

The Race Between Productivity and Demand

The patterns we have seen unfolding in manufacturing over recent decades force us to confront the question of what comes next. Suppose (and it is a big “if”) that a government succeeds in making retail, restaurants, transport and other labor-intensive service sectors more productive. Firms adopt better technologies, improve their management and organize more efficiently. Workers become more productive and earn higher incomes. The question then becomes: Will these sectors continue to generate large numbers of new jobs? Or will they simply provide the same services with fewer workers?

The answer lies in a surprisingly simple piece of arithmetic. Employment in a sector is determined by a race between two forces, productivity (how much each worker can produce) and demand (how much consumers want to buy). If productivity grows faster than demand, firms eventually need fewer workers. If demand grows faster than productivity, employment expands.

This simple intuition helps explain why productivity improvements do not always translate into more and better jobs. Raising productivity increases incomes and living standards, but it does not automatically create jobs on the scale needed for transforming the lives of millions of people. For that to happen, productivity gains must be accompanied by a rapid expansion in demand. 

So, where does that demand come from?

Factories Didn’t Just Make Goods: They Created Customers

The underappreciated reason why manufacturing acted as an engine of growth, beyond the well-known story of how it raised productivity inside factories, was that it fostered demand that allowed the rest of the economy to grow alongside them.

The story of industrialization is a story about ordinary workers earning regular wages. As millions of people left low-productivity agricultural work for factory jobs, they became customers — they bought shoes, clothes, cars and furniture, they rented homes, took buses, ate in restaurants, repaired bicycles, visited doctors and sent their children to school. The productivity gains achieved inside factories spread through the incomes factories generated. Every productive factory job created demand for many other activities, in manufacturing itself but also in local services. Manufacturing workers were the customers of other manufacturing firms and workers, all allowing shopkeepers, transport companies, restaurants, repair services and countless other businesses to expand.

This success was built on combining several features in a single package: access to large markets through trade, rapid productivity growth, stable wage employment for workers with relatively little education and broad-based increases in demand. Those elements reinforced one another. Higher productivity supported higher wages. Higher wages expanded domestic demand. Stronger demand created opportunities for new firms and new jobs throughout the economy.

Can Services Create Customers?

Perhaps surprisingly, the answer might be yes. Recent research has shown that productivity improvements in consumer services can generate self-reinforcing growth.3 As workers move into modern service firms, out of more traditional, lower-productivity activities, they earn higher incomes and spend more on other modern services. Restaurants attract more customers as they improve their quality, retailers lower prices and expand their market as they become more efficient. And rising incomes make households willing to purchase services that were previously unaffordable. Through this feedback loop, with productivity improvements generating new demand that in turn supports further productivity growth and employment, services can play the role manufacturing traditionally played.

If these virtuous cycles are strong enough, labor-absorbing services could become a genuine engine of development. But for governments, that begs the question of whether, and how, they can reliably set these mechanisms in motion.

Governments cannot simply legislate “higher productivity in services.” They must choose concrete policies, whether that’s entrepreneurship training, credit subsidies, management consulting or support for new platforms and technologies. Over the past two decades, development economists have evaluated many of these interventions. Some have produced meaningful improvements for particular firms or entrepreneurs, while others have helped modern businesses to grow or adopt better management practices. 

Yet the broader picture is more sobering. Training interventions, for instance, have generated only modest average effects.4 The entrepreneurs who benefit most are often those who were already relatively capable. Microfinance programs also increase profits only among businesses that were already the most profitable, while encouraging the entry of new, less profitable businesses.5 Generally, productivity increases among service/retail-type microenterprises have rarely translated into substantial job creation. Many of them have occurred not because their working owners possess untapped entrepreneurial talent but because they lack better employment opportunities.6 Helping some of these firms become more productive is not the same as creating a new engine of mass employment.

This distinction is key. Manufacturing’s historical contribution was that, in raising the productivity of firms, it raised the productivity of ordinary workers, at scale. It took millions of people with limited formal education and placed them in organizations where technology, specialization and scale made them dramatically more productive. That was the foundation on which the broader multiplier was built. There are reasons to believe that, while present, non-tradable services cannot generate virtuous cycles that are sufficiently large, broad and predictable to anchor a national development strategy. 

Could artificial intelligence change this? There is little doubt that AI has the potential to make service-sector workers more productive. Think about health or elderly-care workers becoming capable of performing basic diagnostics. But, as with other technologies, whether this will increase the demand for labour depends on whether the gains are sufficiently diffused to generate additional demand. In the case of robots and manufacturing, for instance, evidence shows that adoption reallocates labour from directly replaced tasks towards complementary ones, with muted overall employment effects.7 The impact of AI will similarly depend on whose skills it complements and whose it substitutes for. And then there is the key question of ownership. A substantial share of the resulting surplus is likely to accrue to the owners of models, computing infrastructure, data and complementary capital located outside low-income countries. To the extent that these gains do not translate into higher local incomes, another potential channel of demand and employment generation is weakened.

What Should Governments Bet on Instead?

Imagine that you are the finance minister of a low-income country. After months of negotiations, you have finally persuaded parliament to fund an ambitious economic development program. The budget you’ve been allocated is substantial. The political support for your agenda may not come again. You have one opportunity to place a big long-term bet on your country’s future.

Where do you put the money?

Looking just to the success stories of the past century, perhaps you’d decide on an industrial park, or an export processing zone, or maybe generous incentives to attract manufacturers from abroad.

But if traditional manufacturing no longer works as the primary engine of development, and if labor-absorbing services are unlikely to become one, governments need to think differently about industrial policy. They should not ask which sectors employ the most workers today but start asking a different question: Which sectors create opportunities for everyone else? The sectors that matter most may not be creating jobs within themselves but can trigger a chain reaction of investment, production and consumption far beyond their own boundaries.

High-value agriculture is one example. Modern exports of premium blueberries or other soft commodities bear little resemblance to traditional farming. They require sophisticated logistics, quality certification, cold chains, financial services, marketing and increasingly complex supply networks. Their success creates demand for a wide range of activities that lie outside agriculture itself. My own research on Uruguay illustrates this.8 During the 2010s, rising demand from China transformed the country’s beef exports. This export boom also generated substantial gains for domestic suppliers, especially in services. Expanding exporters increasingly needed logistics, transport, finance, professional services, maintenance and countless other inputs, all of which increased demand for those operating outside of the beef sector. In fact, firms that never exported anything themselves were often the largest beneficiaries. 

The same logic applies to highly sophisticated manufacturing. Modern pharmaceutical production, for example, may never directly employ millions of workers. But what it can do is stimulate an ecosystem of research, engineering, logistics and specialized suppliers, alongside a host of other complementary activities.

The value of these types of sectors lies in the opportunities they generate elsewhere in the economy — and different sectors can perform this same function. By injecting purchasing power into the domestic economy, they create demand beyond those firms that are directly involved, making new forms of business viable across a variety of sectors.

How To Think About Industrial Policy

When seen through this lens, the core questions ministers should ask of industrial policy are: If this sector succeeds, who earns more? Who supplies it? Who spends more because of it? Who gets hired next?

These shift the focus from sectors to spillovers — from direct employment to indirect opportunity — as a sector’s importance lies not only in the jobs it creates within its own boundaries but in the chain reaction it sets off across the rest of the economy.

Cartoon of spillovers from supply and demand

Historically, manufacturing combined productivity growth, access to global markets, rising wages and strong domestic linkages in a way that no other activity could match. This combination of factors made it a powerful engine of development. But it was never the factories themselves that were sacred; their importance lay in the functions they performed for the wider economy.

Those functions still matter. The question is whether other sectors can perform them just as well and whether development policy can effectively identify, and support, those high-potential sectors.

So debating whether developing countries can “skip the factory” is the wrong place to start. The world has changed. Labor-intensive manufacturing is no longer the reliable escalator it once was, and governments shouldn’t spend the next 20 years betting solely on yesterday’s model. But development has perhaps never been about choosing between manufacturing, services or agriculture. It has really been about identifying the specific activities capable of setting off a chain reaction, by raising productivity, generating incomes and creating customers, thus opening opportunities for the rest of the economy.

The challenge now, for every country, is to find what can do what factories once did.

Francesco Amodio is a development and labor economist and Professor of Economics and International Development at McGill University. His research studies the private sector in low- and middle-income countries, with a focus on firms, productivity, trade, industrial policy, and labor markets, and on how industrial development can generate economic growth and reduce poverty. He is co-founder and co-director of the MONT² Econ Lab, a joint initiative of McGill University and the Universidad de Montevideo, and is affiliated with BREAD, CEPR, IGC, IZA, and the ROCKWOOL Foundation Berlin. 

If you have comments on this article, or wish to contribute to the discussion, please email them to letters@indevelopmentmag.com. Responses will be featured in a letters section.

  1. Francesco Amodio et al., “Industrial Development,” VoxDevLit 22, no. 1 (2026). ↩︎
  2. Xinshen Diao, Mia Ellis, Margaret McMillan and Dani Rodrik, “Africa’s Manufacturing Puzzle: Evidence from Tanzanian and Ethiopian Firms,” The World Bank Economic Review 39, no. 2 (2025): 308-40;  Francesco Amodio, Elia Benveniste, Hoang Pham and Marco Sanfilippo, “Industrial Policy and Local Manufacturing,” Mimeo, unpublished (2026). ↩︎
  3. Matthew Schwartzman, “From Street Markets to Shopping Malls: The Modern Service Multiplier,” Mimeo, unpublished (2026). ↩︎
  4. David McKenzie et al., “Training Entrepreneurs,” VoxDevLit 1, no. 4 (2025). ↩︎
  5. Abhijit Banerjee, Esther Duflo, Rachel Glennerster and Cynthia Kinnan, “The Miracle of Microfinance? Evidence from a Randomized Evaluation,” American Economic Journal: Applied Economics 7, no. 1 (2015): 22-53. ↩︎
  6. Kevin Donovan, Will Jianyu Lu and Todd Schoellman, “Labor Market Dynamics and Development,” Quarterly Journal of Economics 138, no. 4 (2023): 2287-2325; Emily Breza and Supreet Kaur, “Labor Markets in Developing Countries,” Annual Review of Economics 17 (2025): 747-76. ↩︎
  7. Rodimiro Rodrigo, “Robot Adoption, Organizational Capital, and the Productivity Paradox,” unpublished manuscript (2022); Gustavo de Souza and Haishi Li (2025), “Robots, Tools, and Jobs: Evidence from Brazilian Labor Markets,” Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago Working Paper (2025): 2023-42. ↩︎
  8. Francesco Amodio, Giorgio Chiovelli and Serafín Frache, “DP20078 Beefing Up the Service Sector: Commodity Export Booms and Production Network Spillovers,” CEPR Discussion Paper No. 20078 (CEPR Press, 2025). ↩︎

Aid agencies are falling around the world. Why?

The Trump administration’s dismantling of USAID was sudden, strange, intense and, at best, questionably legal. It raised a host of America-specific issues: the limits of executive power, the role of Congress, the potential negative consequences of very sudden stops in government programs and the power of the judiciary to prevent or remediate organizational damage.

But USAID isn’t the only aid agency to have suffered major upheaval.

Since 2009, many countries have eliminated or downgraded their historically free-standing, semi-autonomous or ministerial-level development agencies. In 2009 the semi-autonomous New Zealand aid agency, NZAID, was (re)merged into the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade and downgraded to department status. In 2013-14, the Australian aid agency, AusAID, was, summarily and without any consultation, merged into the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade. In 2013, Canada’s development agency, CIDA, was merged into the Department of Foreign Affairs, Trade and Development. And in 2020, the British Department for International Development (DfID) was merged into the new Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office.

Changes to development assistance are not just a feature of the Anglosphere. Denmark’s separate Minister for Development Cooperation was abolished in 2024. The Dutch government issued a policy statement on February 20, 2025, that announced a structural budget cut of €2.4 billion and a major shift in the purposes and content of aid, with a declared focus on promoting Dutch interests. The German coalition government recently reformed its aid agency to be more aligned with national interests. In June 2026, the Swiss government proposed a shake-up in their aid structure with the objective of more effectively promoting Swiss economic interests.

The OECD reported that preliminary figures suggest international development assistance in constant dollars fell by $48.7 billion from 2023 to 2025, a 29 percent drop, the largest in history.

Timeline of elimination and downscaling of independent aid agencies
Aid agencies have been downscaled across the developed world.

Discussing the events around USAID in isolation misses the bigger picture. I argue that for the last few decades, the national organizations of foreign assistance have pursued a fundamentally misguided political strategy. Aid agencies narrowed the focus of bilateral assistance to just direct actions — rather than actually assisting developing countries in making progress on their broader national development goals. 

This had the positive effect of making their contribution to specific outcomes more legible and hence easier to sell. But this narrower focus also weakened core elements of political support, which eventually resulted in organizational downgrading and budget cuts. 

By cutting off their political support — their lifelines — they committed assisted suicide. 

Why Development Aid?

The field of “development” arose as a geopolitical response to the formal decolonization of the post-World War II period. It was widely acknowledged that the world as a whole would benefit if the newly independent states could become “developed” as well. 

Initial approaches focused on structural transformation and growth, under the assumption that countries that have achieved higher levels of national development — more productive economies, more capable administration, more responsive polities — would also improve the wellbeing of their citizens. 

This assumption was largely correct. In general, countries that have experienced the structural transformations of national development have seen enormous progress in material well-being, essentially eliminating extreme poverty, achieving universal schooling, increasing life expectancy and limiting their burden of disease. 

Over time, though, this structural transformation approach fell out of favor. It was perceived as ineffective, difficult to evaluate and benefiting the elite of developing countries. In the decades since 1990, aid has instead focused on mitigating specific, direct harms to human well-being that are the result of a lack of national development. This shifted development assistance from the broad, systemic transformation of countries — what Fukuyama calls “getting to Denmark” — to projects focused on the targeted (at countries and individuals within countries) mitigation of specific harms (e.g., health/nutrition/education/access to credit/lack of skills).

I call this alternative approach to the provision of development assistance the Projectized and Targeted Countering of Harms (PATCH). I use this jargony acronym as it comes with no baggage (like labeling development assistance as “charity”) and it encompasses both “humanitarian” work responding to crises (earthquake, weather, conflict) and the more routine programmed assistance of this type (e.g. health clinics, schools, job training, micro-finance).

The PATCH approach had three big political advantages in donor countries. 

First, you can take a picture of PATCH.  I am not being facetious when I claim this as a benefit. Channeling bilateral assistance into specific projects allows agencies to claim attribution for impact. They can literally show taxpayers a picture of a particular smiling child sitting in a classroom or a woman and her enterprise after getting micro-credit. This is vastly more photogenic and at least seems more concrete and tangible than actions to strengthen the capacity of a central bank to manage inflation or of ministries to choose, plan and implement their own projects.

Second, it is legible. PATCH responds to the old saying that “international aid transfers money from poor people in rich countries to rich people in poor countries.” Agencies can show an accounting paper trail of their transfers to specific beneficiaries, who are not rich. 

Third, in countries that lag in national development, there really are urgent harms to be addressed. By targeting pressing needs in hard-pressed places, the modest resources provided by the donor can “make a difference.” One need not get a country to the GDP per capita of a development success like South Korea or create government-wide gains in state capability. For PATCH to be accounted a success it would suffice to just achieve limited project goals against serious harms. 

But this also lowers expectations — rather than striving for an education system that produces world-class scientists, the donor could help achieve the last mile of universal completion of primary school by targeting the out-of-school populations. 

The Millennium Development Goals of 2000 were the paradigm: They focused on only a few very low-bar goals. Within health there were only targets and tracking for limited health outcomes — child mortality, maternal mortality and three named diseases. Core aspects of a functioning health system were apparently beyond the pale of development assistance. 

When the donor funds a well-designed project and it is implemented well, PATCH can be very effective at mitigating harms and making the world a better place. This has enormous appeal to those donor country voters whose motivation is altruism. Indeed, many make the case that the shift away from broader goals to a narrower PATCH approach made bilateral development assistance more effective, accountable and “evidence based.”

But foreign aid has never just been about altruism. Historically the three legs of political support for development assistance were: (i) foreign policy interests, (ii) private sector business interests and (iii) global altruism (general and specific). PATCH bilateral foreign assistance may have increased the support of those committed to global altruism, but it also reduced support from two of the three legs of the stool. A one-legged stool is not stable — and now it has fallen over.

Foreign Assistance and the Goals of the Foreign Policy Interests

The foreign policy establishment in a donor country is supportive of bilateral assistance to the extent it is seen as a useful tactic in advancing the donor country’s overall global strategy. When bilateral assistance augments a donor country’s influence, foreign policy interests can be a powerful domestic political ally.

This motivation was key to support during the Cold War era. Many Western governments, including the U.S., saw foreign assistance as helpful in preventing alignment with the Soviet Union, an argument made explicit in JFK’s 1961 speech announcing the creation of USAID. As the USSR was actively engaged abroad, the U.S. and other countries had to do the same.

After the Cold War ended, there was no longer a clear ideological enemy. The foreign policy goals of the donor countries became more diffuse and differentiated. Some countries focused on maintaining strong relationships in their regional blocs, but many others maintained a global perspective. They would continue to view foreign assistance as a means of generating “soft power.”

But the PATCH approach is not very good at creating the soft power that the foreign policy establishment craves, for three reasons.

First, PATCH simply does not focus on those with power in recipient countries. While some types of such assistance may help create a generally favorable view of the country in the typical citizen, this need not translate into power with the right people in the right places. Even in a democracy like the U.S., the influence of general public opinion on government policy is not very strong and is especially weak on foreign policy issues. In weak political systems, one could imagine public opinion would matter even less. When assistance is maximally targeted to the mitigation of harm, the flip side implication is that the elites (or even middle class) will benefit the least.

Furthermore, PATCH assistance often does not align with the goals of the government at destination. These governments are often interested in sustained, rapid, broad-based economic growth and in system-wide improvements in key sectors like infrastructure (water, power, transport), security, law and order, and education and health. Assistance that does not contribute to these core agendas necessarily produces less soft power to influence recipient government behavior on issues the foreign policy elite care most about.  

Second, PATCH has an inherent limitation as a tool of soft power for donor countries’ global agendas. It tends to focus on countries that are struggling and, almost by definition, these are not countries that are globally powerful and influential. 

There may be some overlap between the countries most in need of support and those most important to donor countries, but any such overlap is by coincidence rather than design. For instance, the UK’s 2011 bilateral aid review resulted in DFID prioritization of 28 countries, of which 18 were in sub-Saharan Africa, six were South Asian, two were former USSR and two were in the Middle East. This may have been effective prioritization for mitigating the harms of the lack of national development but it is hardly the list of places a great power would like to have influence in.

Targeting extreme poverty makes this trade-off particularly clear. Suppose, in the interests of focusing assistance on extreme poverty, a bilateral agency targets those countries with more than 20% of their population in extreme poverty. Technocratically this is not unreasonable. But this well-meaning targeting of poverty would leave 21 of the 28 largest developing countries — in population terms — off the list. The seven high-poverty countries of Pakistan, Nigeria, Ethiopia, DR Congo, Tanzania, Kenya and Uganda are indeed countries facing formidable challenges but they do not add up to a global foreign policy strategy. They include less than 10% of the total population of developing countries — and even less of global power.

Extreme poverty is concentrated in a handful of countries
Extreme poverty is concentrated in a handful of countries, largely in Africa.

Foreign policy interests, by contrast, tend to focus on relationships with large and powerful countries. These are less interested in the relationship with Malawi and more interested in the relationship with China. PATCH does not promote the donor country’s national interests, and thus foreign policy interests rightly have little interest in it. Targeting the mitigation of harms cannot deliver globally important “soft power.”

Consider a thought experiment: Imagine there is a one-hour, one-on-one meeting between the head of state of any of the large developing countries in the figure above and the head of state of a large donor country (U.S., UK, Japan, Germany, the Netherlands). For which of these countries can you even imagine the leadership of the developing country wanting the donor country’s bilateral assistance on the meeting’s agenda? 

One might argue that the goals of PATCH and the foreign policy elite overlap in war, conflict and failed state situations. In situations like these, the humanitarian needs are immense and the projectized approach is the only workable channel. However, aid agencies that focus on PATCH often struggle when they try to provide anything besides immediate humanitarian relief.

PATCH can succeed in providing critical services but doesn’t necessarily help governments build sustained capability — or even survive as a state. The USAID and World Bank-funded Basic Package of Health Services (BPHS), which started in 2003, is a good example. Health conditions in Afghanistan improved enormously and the BPHS is seen as highly effective. However, it was implemented largely via NGO contracts and hence neither contributed to the legitimacy of the Afghan government nor built durable local capability. Individual Afghans benefitted substantially, but the Afghan state had essentially no stakes in the program. 

After nearly $60 billion spent on reconstruction (not including either U.S. military expenditures or support to military and security forces), the Afghan state collapsed in a matter of days. 

National Economic Interests

Soft power is all well and good, but it cannot be measured in dollars. It is not surprising legislators say things like: I agree that our assistance produces important benefits for people in the recipient countries, and I can understand that it might augment our country’s global power, but what are the concrete benefits to my constituents? Politicians love win-win situations as much as the rest of us; in an ideal world, foreign aid would bring in both soft power and at least some dollars into the national economy. 

Historically, there was an easy answer to this. Foreign assistance that focused on economic growth raised the exports of the donor countries and hence created jobs in two ways. 

First, investment in infrastructure (roads, power plants, dams, ports) was key to raising and sustaining growth in developing countries. These investments required sophisticated capital goods that the donor countries tended to produce — and bilateral assistance programs could even steer the choice towards the donor country (with mechanisms ranging from direct tying of assistance to donor country purchases to just nudges).  

Second, the result of economic growth was higher incomes in the recipient country. With higher incomes, people consume more imports; and exporting firms in the donor countries were at least potential indirect beneficiaries. 

If a country’s key companies get additional sales from aid, this provides a powerful constituency for aid. Growing home firms may even increase the number of jobs in legislators’ constituencies, making aid useful to the legislators.

However, the PATCH approach does not claim to promote economic growth and hence cannot claim to be instrumental in promoting donor country exports. Though there are private sector firms (both nonprofit and for-profit) that implement projects and this creates some jobs, these firms are small and are essentially clients of the assistance agency and hence bring little or no additional power to the politics of aid. There is a substantial political difference between foreign aid augmenting the sales of large domestic firms — bringing power from outside the aid industry —– and firms whose main source of revenue is aid contracts. 

This weaker connection to private interests makes aid much more politically vulnerable. It is notable that reform and restructuring of assistance agencies nearly always explicitly highlights the goal of greater alignment with the donor country’s national interests and often mentions promotion of country exports as a goal of assistance.

Assisted Suicide: Did Bilateral Assistance Decline Because It Got Better at Doing Less?

One might believe that the death of independent aid agencies came as the inexorable consequence of geopolitical changes. Perhaps a downgraded importance of bilateral assistance was an inevitable product of the end of the Cold War.

Another view is that “international development” has been a victim of its own success. It is true that since 1990 extreme poverty has been dramatically reduced, child mortality has declined and the number of children never attending school has fallen to very low levels. It might be argued that this would inevitably, and rightly, reduce donor countries’ commitments to international development.

I don’t think either of these is the entire reason for the decline in bilateral aid. I believe the shift from broad development assistance to the narrower PATCH strategy intensified political support among some constituencies but reduced it among others. In the pursuit of greater legibility, aid agencies lost the support of key parts of the aid coalition.

First, the PATCH approach was of little interest to nearly all developing country governments who saw this mitigation approach as, at best, only a small component of their own more ambitious agendas. This had the domestic consequence that the foreign policy establishment no longer saw their country’s assistance agencies as an important component of their country’s global strategy. This cut off one leg of political support.

Second, the move away from a focus on broad-based economic growth to PATCH meant the domestic “private sector” interest in assistance was reduced to NGOs and contractors. The only supporters left were the pure altruists — never a majority nor a typically powerful group in any country. 

Successful public policy requires the maintenance of a sufficient coalition of actors within the actual political decision-making process. Reducing the size of that coalition is equivalent to voluntarily climbing into a slide and pushing off. You cannot be surprised to find yourself at the bottom.

This is not the usual criticism of aid. It did not “fail” nor was it particularly “wasteful” or “ineffective.” My argument is in many ways the opposite. In trying to be more demonstrably successful and cost-effective at producing visible and high-impact benefits, the agenda of assistance narrowed. And even when that approach made bilateral assistance more cost-effective at countering the harms from the lack of development, it had two other effects. 

One, it made bilateral development assistance less and less relevant to the actual national development goals of nearly all developing countries. Two, it reduced the support from key domestic constituencies that supported aid because it did good around the world but not in ways that also supported key national interests.

The future of development assistance is not arguing about whether the projects of USAID (or other agencies) did or did not directly contribute to “saving lives.” If bilateral agencies are to survive, they must be able to gain back the support of powerful political actors by supporting donor country national interests. And a key element of that is making development assistance a partnership with recipient countries in promoting a broad vision of national development. 

Lant Pritchett has worked in the field of development for 40 years, 20 in the World Bank, 20 in academia (Harvard HKS, Oxford BSG, LSE SPP). He has engaged in research and practice in a variety of domains, including economic growth, education, social protection, governance and state capability, and labor mobility. He was co-author with David Dollar of the 1998 World Bank report Assessing Aid:  What Works, What Doesn’t and Why.

If you have comments on this article, or wish to contribute to the discussion, please email them to letters@indevelopmentmag.com. Responses will be featured in a letters section.

Michael Kremer’s Approach To Economics

Timothy Ogden

Michael Kremer has recently been named the new Chief Economist of the World Bank. On this occasion, we are rerunning this conversation between him and Timothy Ogden in which Kremer discusses his approach to economics, preceded by reflections from Timothy on what has changed in development in the decade since the original conversation.

Tim: The interview reprinted here is an edited version of a series of conversations that began at the end of 2014 and continued well into 2015. All of those conversations were long before a Nobel Prize (yes, yes, I know), the gutting of USAID, DFID and much of the official development assistance world, and, of course, before Kremer would have been considered for, much less appointed, Chief Economist at the World Bank. Perhaps the most jarring part of reading this interview again more than a decade later is how much value Michael put on building up infrastructure that would allow for the use of evidence in policy, when so much of that infrastructure is now destroyed or faces a highly uncertain future. 

It’s impossible for me now not to look at this interview, and the current state of international development aid and infrastructure, through the lens of Kremer’s O-Ring Theory. You can read Michael’s defense of RCTs against critics as flowing from the need to painstakingly investigate each crack and bottleneck in the development process and assess whether relieving this or that constraint will flow through to outcomes. But now we can also see how fragile the production chains of building and applying evidence in development turned out to be!

A decade ago I would probably have been more amused by, as opposed to inured to, the irony of the present situation: the context of the interview (and the book as a whole) was an “upstart” group of economists, NGOs and funders pushing against World Bank (among others) orthodoxy centering macroeconomic concerns and pointing toward measurable, implementable interventions like deworming, teaching at the right level, delivering bednets, or cash transfers to the poorest. It worked! AMCs, GiveDirectly, GiveWell, Deworm the World all can be tied to the work of those upstarts. Now as we see a cyclical return of industrial and energy policy to the top of global development agendas, one of those former “upstarts” is taking the post of Chief Economist. 

Still, my re-reading gives me some optimism. The key concerns in development policy that Michael describes in the interview—the importance of evidence, of getting incentives right, of innovation, of building institutions, of creating space to scale while recognizing that scale has its own unique challenges—could hardly be more important now. The need to confront uncertain new challenges while old challenges stubbornly linger (despite progress), the ability to combine theory and evidence, to apply judgment to resource allocation while thinking about longer-term and second- and third-order effects, to be realistic about what can be changed while being ambitious about what needs to change, all of these are desperately needed. Michael Kremer has been thinking about them, and doing something about them, for a long time. 

The following originally appeared in Experimental Conversations, published in 2017 by MIT Press.1


Tim: What was on your mind when you started doing randomized evaluations in Kenya? Why were you thinking about randomization and what impact did you think it would have at the time?

Michael: In the early 1990s, academic economists were paying increased attention to the issue of how to get reliable econometric identification. In other words, how to separate out the causal impact of a specific policy or factor from potential confounding factors. For example, researchers were using instrumental variables techniques.

I had gone on vacation to the rural community in Kenya where I had lived and taught high school after college and was speaking to Paul Lipeyah, a Kenyan friend of mine. He had gotten a job with an NGO and told me he needed to pick seven schools for a new child sponsorship program. It occurred to me that maybe it would be possible to choose 14 schools and randomize across them to evaluate the causal impact of the program. My friend took the idea to his boss [Chip Bury of International Child Support Africa] and they decided to go for it.2

Based on this initial work, it became clear to me that randomization could be made a practical tool for development economists, and that collaborations between researchers and NGOs could make it possible to test a variety of different approaches. Randomization was not just for very large-scale, multimillion-dollar evaluations of government programs with research questions determined by the government, but could be implemented through collaborations between academics and NGOs. It could shed light not just on child sponsorship programs but on broader questions. Within education, for example, it could shed light on drivers of human capital acquisition. How much of the poor learning outcomes in developing countries was the result of low levels of resources in schools, for example? What if we could use the fact that NGOs were putting large amounts of funding into some schools and not others, to try to understand whether low learning levels were due to lack of inputs, or whether it was due to teacher training, or poor child health or any number of other possible causes? It soon became clear that many important questions in development economics could be answered this way.

Getting involved in programs on the ground and tying one’s hands by using randomized evaluations forces researchers to confront realities of human behavior, even if they don’t correspond to our models. This can lead to the development of better models over time. When Ted Miguel and I did an evaluation of the deworming program of ICS, we found that deworming provided very substantial benefits—eventually leading to increased productivity in the labor force.3 But despite these benefits, demand for deworming pills fell away sharply when the NGO imposed even a small cost-sharing requirement. A series of RCTs later confirmed a high sensitivity of demand for non-acute health technologies with price.4 This accumulation of evidence helped us to refine our theories of health demand, showing that the human capital theory of investment in health needed to be adjusted. There’s been a very productive interaction between RCTs in development and behavioral economics. This series of results has also had an important impact on policy. The World Bank had been an important advocate of user fees for health, but the most recent World Development Report on behavioral economics signaled an important reversal, making the point that fees can deter usage more than might be expected under a rational model.5

Tim: I’m interested in the ideas that were circulating around you when you started working on field experiments. Was that the critiques of IV and looking for better identification? Were you thinking about lab experiments from Kahneman and others? Or the large-scale experiments in the US?

Michael: In 1994 when I started the work in Kenya, I was very much influenced by the movement for better identification in labor economics and public finance, but not by lab experiments. I see these traditions as independent, although there is now some convergence of the lab experiment and field experiment traditions. For instance, Nava Ashraf’s work combines elements of each in interesting ways.

I also was not reacting to the critics of instrumental variables. Indeed, I think those working on instrumental variables and those of us working on RCTs were motivated by the same impulse, the concern that a lot of empirical work in economics at the time was potentially subject to confounders and required a lot of fairly strong assumptions. That being said, it’s not like IV makes all the problems disappear, and neither does an RCT. I don’t think anybody thinks that RCTs are magical, but they are a really useful tool for getting at causal impact. So I would say I was trying to get at causal impact in a way that was part of a broader movement in the economics profession to get better identification.

My main impulse was practical—to get more believable answers to real-world questions. I have always been mainly interested in the underlying questions of what policies can address poverty and I realized that RCTs were a tool that could be adapted to help answer this question. I was motivated to make RCTs a more flexible and useful tool.

Tim: What, of the very many efforts you’ve been involved in—helping begin the RCT movement, Advance Market Commitments, Deworm the World, Development Innovation Ventures, the Global Innovation Fund—are you most proud of? What do you think will have had the largest impact looking back 20 years from now?

Michael: I see all these initiatives as very closely related. Advance Market Commitments are about finding new ways to promote innovation for development. The others are also about innovation for development. Demonstrating that RCTs could be done, working out the practicalities for how to do this work, training others in the technique, raising funding for others to do it, and helping governments and others use the results in developing their policies are all part of a package. Of course, DIV and GIF support not just RCTs but innovations in development more broadly.

People often underestimate the huge amount of practical R&D that went into finding ways to make it feasible to run randomized evaluations that answer both practical and important theoretical questions in developing countries. The field experiments in the US6 were being done with budgets of $40 million dollars or more. Such evaluations can clearly be very important, as the example of PROGRESA7 demonstrates.8 And by the way, as far as I know, PROGRESA, even though it was going on around the same time I was working on those first randomized evaluations, was also something that was separate. I don’t think they knew what I was doing and I don’t think I knew what they were doing. The initial randomized evaluations with ICS in Kenya were done on very small budgets, and we had to work things out from scratch. Working on small budgets in developing countries led to a lot of innovation about how to maximize power from limited samples, how to measure outcomes, and how to randomize. Another difference is that we were working with NGOs, as opposed to the large-scale government evaluations done in the US. This was true both in Kenya where I started, and then with Abhijit in India a few years later.

Working with NGOs, as opposed to big government evaluations, opened up the ability to answer a much wider range of questions, because NGOs are more nimble than governments and they’re used to trying different things. They’re used to not being able to serve everyone, so it’s more natural for them to be willing to try randomizing the order of phase-in. I helped set up a long-term partnership with ICS in Kenya, and the work Abhijit and I did with Seva Mandir9 also turned into a long-term partnership. Within those partnerships we were able to test all sorts of different ideas from education, to health, to women’s empowerment, to agriculture. Graduate students were able to come and join those partnerships and explore new ideas, and those graduate students became junior faculty and then senior faculty, transforming the field.

I’m also happy that I have been able to work with policy makers to use these results to inform policy. Sometimes this involves scaling of particular innovations—such as deworming or chlorine dispensers—and sometimes it involves developing more general lessons, such as on the impact of price on use of preventative health products or the importance of matching teaching to children’s current learning level.

It takes a ton of effort to scale. That became very clear in the experience of deworming. We presented our results to policy makers and I think they were very genuinely excited about them. But a Permanent Secretary in a Ministry of Education will have many things to deal with, so sustained engagement and support are needed. In the case of deworming, for instance, we co-founded an NGO, Deworm the World, to provide technical assistance to governments to introduce mass school-based deworming programs. It took a lot of work to get the NGO started and to get some large-scale programs going in Kenya and Bihar. But now Evidence Action, which took over the work of Deworm the World, is successfully supporting national programs in Kenya, Ethiopia, and India. They have already reached 140 million children in the first half of 2015 alone.

From my experience working on scaling up deworming, it became clear that there was a need for more institutional support to scale up the lessons coming out of RCTs. When Raj Shah became USAID Administrator and asked me to get involved, this is what I told him I wanted to work on. He was excited by the idea and suggested that I work with Maura O’Neill, who has a background in entrepreneurship. Together we co-founded Development Innovation Ventures within USAID to finance early-stage piloting of new ideas in development, rigorous testing of those ideas, and scaling of those that proved most successful. DIV has funded a lot of RCTs around the world and has helped organizations scale those that work. This is really quite a different model to much of development aid. Instead of aid agencies making top-down decisions about what to invest in and then issuing calls for proposals to implement the vision, this approach involves an open call for innovative ideas, provides resources to support rigorous testing, and then makes further support conditional on results. The DIV approach has influenced the creation of related funds in Peru and Tamil Nadu. DFID was interested in what we were doing, and so over the past few years I have been involved in setting up a new international venture, the Global Innovation Fund, which is supported by the US, the UK, Sweden, Australia, and the Omidyar Network. We just launched it this year, and I am very excited about it.

The modern movement for RCTs in development economics often gets put in the evaluation category, but in fact the movement is about innovation, as well as evaluation. It’s a dynamic process of learning about a context through painstaking on-the-ground work, trying out different approaches, collecting good data with good causal identification, finding out that results do not fit pre-conceived theoretical ideas, working on a better theoretical understanding that fits the facts on the ground, and developing new ideas and approaches based on theory and then testing the new approaches. The idea for DIV and GIF is very much about innovation, so if you need support to pilot your idea before you’re ready to rigorously evaluate impact, DIV and GIF will both pay for that. Then they’ll pay for a rigorous impact evaluation, and if it works, they also go on to the next stage, which is trying to help transition innovations to scale.

So I see getting the modern movement of randomized evaluations started, showing they were possible, working with NGOs, working to try to scale successful development approaches like deworming, drawing out lessons like the sensitivity of preventive healthcare to fees, and then trying to build institutions to keep doing these things as a package that I hope will have lots of impact.

Tim: There’s an implicit theory of change there about the problem being the lack of institutions to generate and use evidence.

Michael: I think that’s right. You can see a lot of what I have worked on as creating an institutional framework to allow ideas in development to be rigorously tested and scaled. Even my early work in Kenya was building the local infrastructure to allow people to run high-quality field experiments—from trained enumerators to systems people could run grants through. Many others have helped set up that infrastructure too and the world has come a long way in the last 20 years. There’s J-PAL, there’s IPA, there’s 3ie, there’s the SIEF program at the World Bank, there’s DIME, so tremendous progress has been made.

Tim: There’s a bit of irony in the “institutions matter” critique that RCTs are paying attention to things that are too small, but the movement has created institutions.

Michael: RCTs can’t be used to answer every issue, but they can shed light on many issues.

Deworming may seem like a small question but evaluations of deworming shed light on the interrelation of health and education, people’s sensitivity to small copays for non-acute health, responsiveness of behavior to health information, and information flow through social networks. It also helped shed light on methodological issues about measuring externalities.

There are now many good RCTs on political economy questions. Ben Olken has done a lot of good work on corruption using RCTs10 and there is a lot of work on making bureaucracies more responsive.11

Some of my work on education that initially started as an evaluation of a textbook program wound up being about institutions. As I mentioned earlier, one of the great things about randomized evaluations is that it forces researchers to get very in touch with the reality of what’s on the ground. Academics are not just sitting around theorizing about the challenges of development; they are getting their hands dirty. Very often in that process they realize their theories are wrong, and they come up with new theories. And then when you test those theories with an RCT, you are often surprised by the result. There is no room to tweak your result to fit your preconceived ideas, it is what it is. RCTs force you to confront reality.

I had taught in a school in Kenya, and seeing how few resources the schools had made me think it must be good to have more resources, including more textbooks. But we found that textbooks only improved test scores for those who were already performing well. That made me think about the issues of fit between the curriculum and where the students currently were. 

Textbooks were written at a level far from the level of many students. One of the big lessons from RCTs in education is the mismatch between where curricula are and where teaching is oriented and where the typical student is. There are institutional reasons for that. There are political economy reasons for that. I think we understand a lot more about one of the key institutional problems in education because of randomized evaluations. In that case it didn’t start out with an analysis of the institutional reasons for the mismatch, but the data brought us to it.

We’ve identified a number of very useful interventions, such as remedial education, to address that problem, but it remains a big political economy problem to get those interventions implemented. Those are useful policies to help address this problem, but we probably also need curricular reform, and that’s a harder task. But there’s no reason why if we do have curricular reform, we can’t understand the impact of that with randomized evaluations.

Some other critiques of RCTs, for example, about whether results from one context will generalize to others, are general points about empirical work, not about randomized evaluations.

Tim: I want to go back to the issue of AMCs that we set aside at the beginning of this discussion. There’s a reasonable argument that AMCs increase the number of vaccines and, combined with GAVI, gets a lot more kids vaccinated—and that one of the most important things to happen in development is keeping a bunch of kids from dying or being permanently handicapped physically or cognitively. How would you compare the potential impact of building institutions to generate evidence, versus “we saved a bunch of kids”?

Michael: Institutions to encourage R&D on health products for the developed world include both public biomedical research funding and intellectual property rights to encourage private sector R&D. The idea of AMCs was to expand the set of tools we had available for encouraging R&D. Intellectual property rights systems create R&D incentives but also involve some static distortions, and those can be quite costly. There can also be some dynamic distortions. I had written a paper on the idea of buying out patents—firms could voluntarily sell their patents to governments, which could put them in the public domain.12 That preserves the dynamic R&D incentives created by intellectual property rights but avoids some of the static distortions associated with intellectual property rights, as well as some of the dynamic distortions, like the incentive to develop “me-too” drugs just to get around the patent, and the disincentives to develop follow-on drugs.

AMCs for vaccines have a lot of the same properties as buying out a patent, but it seemed like they were institutionally and politically easier to do.13 There was a huge amount of work to move from an academic idea to something that could be implemented in policy.14 It was great that was done for the pneumococcus vaccine, and then that vaccine was developed.

I think the biggest potential benefit of AMCs would be to encourage R&D for diseases that are a little more distant. In the case of pneumococcus, there was already a vaccine for the strains that were common in the rich world, but there wasn’t one that covered all of the strains that are relevant to a lot of poorer countries. It was a technological challenge that I don’t want to minimize, but it was less of a technological challenge than developing a completely new vaccine. I haven’t spent time on this for a while, though I am writing an academic paper on vaccines and drugs right now. But, in general, I think there’s scope for institutional innovation to come up with new mechanisms to encourage R&D and to make the products accessible. I hope I’ll go back to doing some work on that at some point.

Tim: Do you think about your role in training either directly or indirectly so many of the people involved in doing randomized evaluations? At the risk of goading you into saying some not very humble things, what’s the counterfactual of a world without Michael Kremer?

Michael: It’s been great to work with some amazing graduate students and co-authors over the years, many of whom are now doing incredible things. One of the great things about setting up the operation at ICS in Busia has been seeing these incredibly talented people who are getting training in top-notch institutions and bringing that training face to face with life in Kenya and generating fantastic ideas.

I think that was very valuable for the students, but it’s also valuable for the world insofar as a lot of those students went on to do great things. I’m very happy about that.

Tim: One version of the impact of the field experiment movement is we’ve transitioned from a situation that, in general, serious economists didn’t go to the field to one where they do. Does that resonate with you?

Michael: The world needs all sorts of research.

We need field researchers, theorists, macroeconomists. There’s fantastic work going on in economic history. I think the idea of spending time in the field and being involved in randomized trials and other fieldwork is great, and that is one very important set of techniques and tools. I’m also open to other approaches. I do think that, in general, it is good for development economists to have spent time living and working in developing countries, but that does not mean that every project should be based on fieldwork.

Timothy Ogden is Managing Director of the Financial Access Initiative, a research initiative exploring how financial services can better meet the needs and improve the lives of poor households. He is the author of Experimental Conversations, a collection of interviews with economists conducting field experiments on poverty alleviation interventions. He also serves on the board of GiveWell and is a senior fellow of the Aspen Institute’s Economic Opportunities Program.

If you have comments on this article, or wish to contribute to the discussion, please email them to letters@indevelopmentmag.com. Responses will be featured in a letters section.

  1. Specifically: Ogden, Timothy N., Experimental Conversations: Perspectives on Randomized Trials in Development Economics, © 2017 Massachusetts Institute of Technology, by permission of The MIT Press. ↩︎
  2. This was published as Glewwe, Paul, Michael Kremer, and Sylvie Moulin. “Many Children Left Behind? Textbooks and Test Scores in Kenya.” American Economic Journal: Applied Economics 1 (1) (2009): 112–35. doi:10.1257/app.1.1.112.. While this work was seminal in launching the RCT movement, the paper was not officially published until 2009, well after many other influential RCT papers were published. ↩︎
  3. Miguel, Edward, and Michael Kremer. “Worms: Identifying Impacts on Education and Health in the Presence of Treatment Externalities.” Econometrica 72 (1) (2004): 159–217. doi:10.1111/j.1468-0262.2004.00481.x. ↩︎
  4. Pascaline Dupas has been involved in much of this work, and some of it is discussed in her interview in Experimental Conversations. J-PAL has an overview of the topic with links to many papers here. ↩︎
  5. See particularly chapter 8: “Health.” In World Development Report 2015: Mind, Society and Behavior. Washington, DC: World Bank, 2015. ↩︎
  6. These US field experiments of federal programs are discussed in the interview with Judy Gueron in Experimental Conversations. ↩︎
  7. PROGRESA is arguably the progenitor of modern conditional cash transfer programs, which provide social welfare payments conditional on recipients taking specific actions like keeping their children in school or getting vaccinations. PROGRESA was evaluated using a randomized trial which exploited the need to roll the program out over the course of several years and found significant impact on many measures of interest. The success of PROGRESA inspired the adoption of CCT programs in many countries around the world. ↩︎
  8. For an overview of the PROGRESA program and its impact, see: Skoufias, Emmanuel, and Bonnie McClafferty. “Is PROGRESA Working? Summary of the results of an evaluation by IFPRI.” FCND Discussion Paper 118. Washington, DC, 2001. http://ebrary.ifpri.org/cdm/ref/collection/p15738coll2/id/77118. ↩︎
  9. Seva Mandir is an NGO based in Rajasthan, India. It was involved in a number of the early education RCTs as well as the immunization promotion experiment (discussed in the interview with Esther Duflo and Abhijit Banerjee in Experimental Conversations). ↩︎
  10. This includes work in Indonesia on extortion of truck drivers and on corruption in road building and the gap between perceptions of corruption and actual corruption. For an overview, see Olken and Pande, “Corruption in Developing Countries” Annual Review of Economics (2012), Olken, Benjamin A., and Patrick Barron. “The Simple Economics of Extortion: Evidence from Trucking in Aceh.” Journal of Political Economy 117 (3) (2009): 417–52. doi: 10.1086/599707, Olken, Benjamin A. “Monitoring Corruption: Evidence from a Field Experiment in Indonesia.” Journal of Political Economy 115 (2) (2007): 200–49. doi: 10.1086/517935. ↩︎
  11. See, for instance, Banerjee et al.’s work with the Rajasthan police, and Olken’s work on performance pay for tax collectors in India. ↩︎
  12. Kremer, Michael. “Patent Buyouts: A Mechanism for Encouraging Innovation.” Quarterly Journal of Economics 113 (4) (1998): 1137–67. doi:10.1162/003355398555865. ↩︎
  13. Kremer, Michael, and Rachel Glennerster. Strong Medicine: Creating Incentives for Pharmaceutical Research on Neglected Diseases. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004. ↩︎
  14. This included not only the original economics papers, but a book (Strong Medicine) and a working group at the Center for Global Development before an organization was created and funded to manage AMCs. See: Levine, Ruth, Michael Kremer, and Alice Albright. Making Markets for Vaccines: Ideas to Action. Washington, DC: Center for Global Development, 2005. ↩︎

We’re back! We will have new articles for you starting next week.

In the meantime, we have reader responses to our previous pieces. We’d love to publish your reactions as well — please email letters@indevelopmentmag.com. Letters may be edited for clarity and to conform to house style.


In response to What South Sudanese Data Can Teach Us All, and Why We Should Care

Dear editors,

My name is Augustino (August) Ting Mayai. I am currently the Director General of the National Bureau of Statistics.

I am grateful for your thoughts, shared in your August 6 article. Hon. Margaret is certainly one of a kind, having experienced her outstanding dedication in 2007, when I paid the bureau a visit as a doctoral student at Wisconsin looking for population data for my dissertation. Margaret and fellow demographer Eliaba Damundu gave their all to ensure I had the data I needed to shine light on South Sudan’s health problems. Indeed, it is people like Margaret and Eliaba who make countries and organizations stand out. 

I would also like to note that your article is particularly heartwarming. For about 10 years now, the world hasn’t presented much positivity regarding South Sudan. It is encouraging to see that not everyone has given up on us. It has personally energized me as I now prepare the country for its first census since independence.

Augustino (August) Ting Mayai

Director General of the National Bureau of Statistics, South Sudan


Dear editors,

I’m a bit sad and frustrated to be writing this response. I love the idea of this success story in South Sudan, but I was suspicious at the bold claims that when the author was in South Sudan in 2012, “the data” “was extremely high quality” and that “at first pass, at least, it seemed accurate.” These claims unfortunately seem straightforwardly false. When I looked at the data, it seemed to be of low quality.

Although the author doesn’t make clear what “the data” he discusses refers to, an earlier article which he quotes heavily makes it clear that Margaret was referring to her work on the 2008 census. For instance, he says in that article “the first census in 2008 involved 11,000 data collectors … how could Labanya know if her staff had collected accurate data, if there was nothing to compare it to?” If Dan was referring to other data besides the 2008 census, this should have been made clear.

Regarding the 2008 census:

  1. The article states that “People trusted the data they got; donors, government, NGOs seemed to report government data to me without the subtext of an eye roll.” This ignores a pretty significant incident. The government of South Sudan publicly rejected the census’ population count and claimed the real population figure was 50% higher than in the census.
  2. When I looked at the census data, there were three red flags that the data quality was poor:
    1. The Whipple index looks at how many people end their age with a 0 or a 5. Over 175 is the worst category here, and the 2008 census number was 178.4.
    2. The male to female ratio was 108 men to every 100 women. Given poor access to healthcare and an active conflict, this seems very unlikely.
    3. The 2008 census is incompatible with a 2021 population estimate. In 2021, the population was estimated at 12,444,018. For this to be consistent with the 2008 estimate, the population would have to grow 5% per year, given plausible assumptions about migration and mortality. This also seems unlikely.

Either one or both of these studies are inaccurate.

If this is the primary example of high-quality South Sudanese data, it seems to undermine the article’s point.

Furthermore, the specific impressive statistical methods praised happened well after the author was there in 2012. The High Frequency Survey studies took place from 2015 onwards, and were largely reliant on the 2008 census data (already flagged as inaccurate). The World Bank researchers who say the data was particularly accurate are also the ones who conducted the research.

Lastly, I do not think the positive framing reflects the failed institutions which typify South Sudan. Margaret Labanya stated herself that the South Sudanese government undermined the statistics department and effectively ran them into the ground. She says that “those with political power began to marginalize statistics.”

South Sudan is a failed state, with millions of refugees still outside the country. It is a completely savage dictatorship with some of the worst institutions in the world. Though the article is trying to frame things positively, it still feels a bit disingenuous to go a whole article about South Sudan without even mentioning this situation.

In a huge, extremely poor, low-trust country with failed institutions, sending thousands of poorly supervised, largely green enumerators around the country will not generate very good data, no matter how fantastic Margaret or other leaders might be. Indeed, given the situation, I only have more respect for Margaret Labanya.

She herself doesn’t make the author’s bold claims that the statistics are very good. She talks about doing everything possible to get the best stats possible. She’s also willing to criticize the South Sudanese government, which could well have cost her dearly.

The data she helped generate can be at the same time useful, inform to some extent programs and make a difference to people’s lives while still being pretty inaccurate. I think it is better to be honest about these realities rather than sugarcoat them.

Nick Laing

CEO of OneDayHealth


Response from Dan Honig:

I’m grateful to the critique’s author for taking my piece seriously enough to dig into the evidence behind it. On some factual and presentational matters we do disagree, which I’ll come to below. But I want to begin with what strikes me as the most important point in the response: one on which I think we agree almost completely. Margaret is remarkable.

Indeed, that claim is much closer to the central thrust of my article than the accuracy of South Sudan’s 2008 census.

My interest in this story began with something I observed while working in South Sudan in 2012. In a difficult operating environment, I had the experience (rather than systematic research/evidence, to be clear) of receiving government data that was useful, coherent and treated by the people around me — government officials, donors and NGOs — as sufficiently reliable to inform their work. That surprised me.

Years later, while researching “Mission Driven Bureaucrats,” I encountered Margaret Labanya and began to understand one important part of how a statistical agency in such an environment had been able to perform as well as it did. She is an exemplar of what I call a mission-driven bureaucrat: someone deeply motivated by the purpose of her work, who both exercises judgment herself and helps cultivate commitment among those she manages.

I’m uninterested in defending (and did not mean to assert) the claim that every statistic produced by the National Bureau of Statistics, including the 2008 census, must have been accurate. The claim I intended to make (and if this was ambiguous in the piece, that’s on me, and I appreciate the opportunity to clarify) is: Even in a state facing institutional challenges, there can be pockets of genuinely impressive bureaucratic performance. Understanding the people, management and organizational environments that make those pockets possible is an important — and underexplored — part of understanding state capacity. On this, I suspect the author of the critique and I are much closer to agreement.

The Census, High Frequency Surveys and South Sudanese Data

The critique argues that the performance I discuss could not have happened while I was in South Sudan in 2012, because the High Frequency Survey took place from 2015 onward. There were multiple generations of the High Frequency Survey, the first of which occurred before I was in South Sudan (they did not in fact begin in 2015). And, of course, there were other statistics agency products collecting data between the 2008 census and these surveys. It is simply not true that I observed the bureau in 2012 and then retroactively attributed techniques developed years later to what I had seen.

That said, I think the critique has identified a place where my writing could have been more precise. I cite, after discussing Margaret’s approach to building the organization, the High Frequency Survey as evidence. I intended the claim to describe the surprising capacity of the bureau and the quality of a data product that had undergone rigorous external investigation (which is of course relatively rare). I did not intend to certify every statistic the NBS had ever produced, or to seem to use the High Frequency evidence “for” the 2008 census or any other specific output of the South Sudanese National Bureau of Statistics. I could have been clearer that my general claim was that this was an agency producing generally strong data products.

Let’s turn to that 2008 census, to which the critique devotes substantial attention. Let me be explicit: The 2008 census is not what my description of South Sudanese data in the article principally rests upon. That is why I do not mention the 2008 census at any point in the piece. It is possible some of what I was exposed to in 2012 came from that census; but I don’t know that to be the case, nor do I think that my central claims in the article rest upon the answer to that question.

I agree that some of the statistical claims in the critique do seem to suggest flaws in the 2008 census, and I am happy to concede this. I don’t believe myself to have ever made a claim that contradicts this view, in my In Development piece or anywhere else.

And, as the critique rightly observes, Margaret herself speaks less in terms of statistical perfection than of the extraordinary effort required to generate the best information possible under extremely difficult circumstances. 

That, to me, is the important takeaway when we look at South Sudan’s statistical products — including potentially the 2008 census. “Data quality” is not a binary in which a dataset is either perfectly accurate or worthless. That the data was useful for decision-making is the main point for informing how we should think about South Sudanese statistics and for what the lessons of Margaret’s time at the agency are for the world, rather than the technical details of a nearly 20-year-old census. The surprising accomplishment was not creating a perfect statistical system; it was building an institution capable of generating information useful enough that actors relied upon it under circumstances in which doing so was extraordinarily difficult.

The critique says that the positive framing of my article feels “disingenuous” given South Sudan’s wider record of state failure and suggests that in such a poor, low-trust country with weak institutions it is simply very difficult to imagine thousands of enumerators producing very good data. And it is true that South Sudan has faced — and continues to face — political, humanitarian and institutional difficulties.

But as I write in the piece, states are not unitary actors. “Juba,” “Washington” or “London” do not reflect just one thing. Within governments that perform badly overall, some organizations perform well. Within high-performing governments, some organizations perform badly. Within individual agencies, some teams flourish while others fail.

Much of my In Development piece is about evidence that the same basic phenomenon appears all over the world. Government performance varies enormously within countries and even within organizations. Where we find pockets of exceptional performance, we very often find committed public servants, effective managers, meaningful autonomy, strong peer relationships and a sense of connection to purpose.

That matters because much of the state capacity conversation starts somewhere else. We see weak systems and reach for more rules, more monitoring, more compliance systems to make sure mistakes cannot happen. Sometimes those things help. But people are not simply inputs into organizational machinery. Their motivation, judgment and relationships affect what states can and do do.

If we thought more seriously about empowered, mission-driven bureaucrats — and about the organizational conditions that attract them, sustain them and help others become more like them — I believe we could achieve much more in our efforts to strengthen state capacity in developing and developed countries alike.


In response to Why Economists Don’t Listen

Dear editors,

The post conflates two points. One is uncontroversial: Economists should use more kinds of data. Transcripts and open-ended interviews are evidence, and nothing in the credibility revolution excludes them. The Nick Bloom-John Van Reenen management agenda is built on open-ended interviews. Many of us write text-as-data papers.

The second point is ideological: that distance from subjects invalidates research, that respondents should become co-analysts, that separation is a mere “performance of objectivity.” This idea leads researchers astray. I want to be able to check your findings, not replace verifiability with sympathy. If you write a paper, I will not read it if I know you are in advance determined to tell a given story. I don’t care whom you sympathize with; your sympathy reduces verifiability, and the interest of your research. Yes, separation is an aspiration more than it is always possible. But the moment we give up, and we know what the abstract and title will say before we look at the data, then it is research itself that has become performative.

Luis Garicano 

Professor of Public Policy at LSE


Dear editors,

I read Biju Rao’s piece on why economists don’t listen with a lot of interest. It captures well the kinds of things my advisors told me when I started my PhD. I’d spent two years in Vanuatu thinking about small island states, how many people a country really needs to run itself and how to get policymakers to engage with economic analyses. When I took some of these ideas to my supervisor, he said “these are interesting ideas … for a newspaper article. Not an economics journal. Your job is to publish in economics journals.” Another mentor reacted to my suggestions with “this is a good idea for sociology. But remember, we’re economists. Our comparative advantage is doing large-n, we have to leave small-n questions to other disciplines.”

So I have a lot of sympathy for Biju’s perspective on this subject. But his piece left me with more questions than answers:

  1. Should we have disciplinary boundaries at all? Is a field defined by its questions or by its methods? One could interpret Biju’s prescriptions as yet another form of economics imperialism. You could hear sociologists and anthropologists scream, “First you came for our questions, you wrote in your papers that yet-little-is-known-about-x when there is a LOT known about the subject in journals you don’t read, and now you’ll take our methods too?” I generally think comparative advantage is good, epistemic humility is good and we should find a way to reward collaborations between economists and practitioners of other social sciences rather than teach economists to do everything.
  2. Is this nature or nurture? I don’t think we can make mixed-methods masters of people who join economics programs. We know that qualitative work is not just about “listening to people.” It is about knowing enough to make sense of what you’re listening to, to form theories based on what you hear and don’t hear. This is a different skill from quantitative analysis and coding. There are other disciplines that are known for those skills, and the people who are interested in those skills often join those programs.
  3. How is cognitive empathy built? Jeremy Weinstein tells his students: You have to be proximate to the politics you wish to study. Somewhat less charitably, where you live has bearing on whose validation you seek and that then affects what you work on and what methods you use.

If I was passing judgement here, I could say that I hope more social scientists like Biju would move back to India over time, but I know life is not so simple. The Global North has far more capital, amenities and freedoms. To the extent that we need capital to do research, it is important to be legible to that capital, and so really the distance that matters is not the distance between economists and the people they study, but between owners of philanthropic capital and the people they want to benefit. 

Karan Nagpal

Senior Director at IDinsight