Things I don’t believe in #6 – All powerful expatriate leadership

This is the first thing – expats don’t stay forever. In two or three or four years, the expat will leave. If your whole program depends on her, or the staff believes that it does, things will go to pieces when she leaves. This is the second thing – it’s disempowering. You don’t want your staff, or your stakeholders, to believe change only comes from outsiders. You want people to find their own power and their own capacity to influence their lives and communities. You don’t want them to sit around waiting and starving for the Dutch to come back and rebuild the irrigation canals.

This is the third thing. You want your staff invested in the process. You want everyone involved to know your select your pilot schools because they meet the qualifications for your program. You don’t want them thinking the schools were selected because Mr. Thomas feels really bad for the villages, or worse yet, because he thought the teachers were pretty. You want people to know you’ve got a system and your apply it fairly.

This is the fourth thing. Country Directors who allow themselves to be seen as having and exerting that kind of power end up isolated. Staff members won’t be comfortable being part of a collaborative decision-making process. They won’t offer opinions on how to make things better, and they won’t go to the CD if they identify a problem.

Good programs come from good teams, not from little gods and their adoring worshippers.

Things I believe in #13: Giving your team hats and t-shirts

When I sat down to expand on this, I realized what I really meant was – make your staff into a team. Treat them as competent professionals working together for a common goal. Giving them swag is one way to do that; putting everyone in the same t-shirt makes them look physically like equals. It makes them feel commonality with headquarters, and with the other offices in the country and around the world.

Every single paid staff member and volunteer should know where your organization is based, who funds it, and the general outline of its national programs. Paid staff members should know more. They should know the basic details of all your country projects, not just the ones they work for. If you have behavior change messages, every single employee should know them. This includes your drivers, your cleaners, your gardeners, and your tea lady (and if your behavior change messages are too complex for the tea lady, you’ve got problems).

Your people should know what it means to work for you, and they should be proud of it. They should know your general country budget, and your global budget. They should know where the money comes from – DFID, USAID, private donors, or whoever. They should know your organization’s global mission.

Now you’re wondering, why bother with this level of staff integration? Because everybody wins when you make your staff into a team. A high-functioning team generates a synergy of local and expat knowledge that takes your projects to a new level. Your organization benefits by running more effective, more efficient programs. Your host country benefits because the quality of your work is better.

It takes more than a weekly staff meeting to make this kind of team effort happen. Personally, I like posters and diagrams in common areas explaining program components. I like using your whole team as your first focus group for behavior change materials. I like having your country director give periodic updates on budgets and progress toward program goals. I like giving your team free lunches and doing presentations on different program components. I like having people from different teams share drivers and office space.

Things I don’t believe in #18 – Bringing people to the US for medical treatment

I know it’s heartbreaking when you see children on the news with cancer or serious injuries that can’t be treated at home. I have a two-year-old and if, god forbid, he ever got seriously ill, I guarantee I would take him anywhere it took to save him. I have profound empathy with the families of sick kids. But sending one child to the US for care uses resources that could help an awful lot of kids in-country. It is the job of a parent to care for their own child first and foremost. It is the job of donors, governments, and NGOs to care for as many children as possible with the funding available. In my opinion, it is not an ethical use of limited resources to transport one child for health care.

When you bring a child to the US, you need to bring at least one relative as well, to look after the child in a strange place. If the relative is a parent, siblings at home will probably suffer emotionally and economically in their absence. If the relative is not a parent, they may have trouble making difficult decision about the child’s care. Assuming your medical care is donated, you still need to pay for their plane flights, housing, and food. For a long period, since they will need to stay in the US for all necessary follow-up appointments. The child and relative will need translators so they can talk to doctors. They’ll need a lot of help with informed consent to risky procedures. Often, at the end of it all, neither the child nor the relative want to go home. There is generally no way for them to stay.

Assume the medical treatment is successful, assume everyone goes home happy. What happens to the next kid with the same problem? If she’s lucky, the same effort that was generated for the last child. Expensive transport, a long time away from home and family, frightening and unfamiliar doctors who don’t speak her language. If she’s not so lucky, nothing. The next child with the same problem probably won’t get as much media attention because it’s not a novelty. There will be donor fatigue – finding donated care will be harder. Probably she is stuck in her home country with medical care she may or may not survive.

How do we do it better? It’s not very realistic to argue that you should just ignore seriously ill children and spend the money on public health interventions. No human can do that. On a practical basis, you probably have people willing to donate money for that one compelling child. You can’t just take that cash and save fifty children from malaria or helminths. But you can fly in a team of specialists or oncologists. You can most likely talk them into donating their time for the chance to help someone in a faraway location.

Team up your foreign doctors with local specialists. They can train the local physicians in how to treat the illness or perform the necessary surgery. They can train local doctors in how to provide the follow-up care. You may have to bring the sick child to the capital where facilities are available, but he is still in his own culture, speaking his own language. His relatives can alternate who stays with him so his siblings are not neglected. You’ll need translators for the foreign doctors, food and housing, but that’s still a lot less than sending people the other way. Yes, there are lots of complications; you may need to purchase, or find, donated equipment and drugs.

But now consider the next kid. She’s received a scary and terrible diagnosis, which requires sophisticated treatment. She travels no further than her own capital for care. She is treated by doctors who’ve been trained by American specialists, and her doctors can contact those American colleagues if they have questions. She can go home right after her treatment, and come back as needed for follow-up visits.

Things I believe in #1 – Positive Deviance

In every village, there is at least one woman (usually a few) whose children are healthier than the rest. For whatever reason, that woman is better at navigating the complexities of village life and child nutrition. That woman has knowledge and skills which can be taught. You find her, you learn from her, you support her to teach her peers. That is positive deviance. Find the people who deviate from the norm by being more successful. Learn from them.

The original positive deviance programs were nutrition programs, with a specific structure and methodology. These are some nice examples. Positive Deviance remains one of the most powerful tools we have for improving nutrition in the developing world. You can also, however, use the ideas behind positive deviance for more than just nutrition.

Every systems has its positive deviants. People who are better at surviving within it. You don’t need a bunch of outsiders to or foreign experts to find ways to improve your system. Most of the knowledge you need is already there. It’s a profound and powerful idea. It means you improve education by learning from the teachers and principals of high-performing schools. It means you make childbirth safer by talking to maternity nurses and ob/gyns. It means you value the knowledge and experience of the people in the developing world.

When you want to make things better, look inside first. Learn from the people who know it best. After that, bring in your outside experts. See of they have anything add. But most of what you need to know is already there.

Things I believe in

Here’s what I think actually works in relief and development:

1. Positive Deviance
2. Training of Trainers
3. Primary education
4. Microfinance
5. Most Significant change evaluation
6. Government partnerships
7. Rigorous financial controls
8. Respecting your community partners
9. Evidence-based programs
10. Operational research
11. hiring good consultants to review your plans and programs
12. local volunteers
13. giving your in-country staff hats and t-shirts
14. writing all of your documents in clear, simple language
15. understanding the power of the individual
16. pregnancy transport cooperatives
17. recognizing and learning from failure
18. kitchen gardens
19. conserving water
20. solar cookers
21. giving everyone on earth the ability to choose their own family size
22. literacy
23. numeracy
24. combining local and expat knowledge to create something new
25. posting your policies and organizational mission in a public place
26. bicycles
27. paying your local staff well
28. social marketing
29. educational soap operas
30. the power of angry grandmothers
31. heirloom seeds
32. working with existing institutions
33. skype
34. context-context-context
35. setting up your systems to they default to success
36. text messaging
37. social media
38. breastfeeding
39. citizen journalism
40. oral rehydration salts
41. a moral obligation to help others
42. railways
43. independent media
44. camels
45. mangrove trees

And here is what I don’t believe in:

1. Programs based on broad development theory or any other ideology
2. most volunteer doctors
3. most kinds of evaluation
4. excessive branding
5. grateful beneficiaries
6. all-powerful expatriate leadership
7. overly lavish offices
8. white SUVs
9. neutrality
10. donating your old stuff instead of money
11. living on compound when it’s not required for security reasons
12. conferences
13. conference calls
14. handover ceremonies
15. participatory rapid assessment as it is generally done
16. meetings without agendas
17. hiring your staff for zeal instead of competence
18. bringing people to the US for medical treatment
19. cancer hospitals
20. Paying your people like you think they are working for love and not money
21. technological quick fixes
22. expecting innovation to solve everything
23. computers to automatically improve education
24. having a consultant design your programs
25. jargon
26. valuing hierarchy over initiative
27. calling your field visits “missions”
28. bottled water
29. aggressive promotion of microcredit
30. writing new curricula instead of adapting existing ones
31. single-passenger vehicles
32. goats
33. processed food
34. meetings of over an hour
35. most exchange programs

Over time I will be expanding this list into a series of posts; for now you just get the list. I change my mind frequently as I learn new things, so you may well see things move from one list to the other over time.

A love letter to my last job

(you don’t have to be crazy to work there but it helps)

I love that we are first in and last out, that we’re boots on the ground when the bullets are still in the air and we stay until we’re genuinely no longer needed. I love our unruly and brilliant country directors. I love that this is the smartest group of people with whom I have ever had the pleasure of working. I love always having someone to talk to on skype. I love that everyone here has field experience and is mysteriously lacking in any sense of self-preservation.

I love being part of a team, a team that does something that matters and does it well. I love the way this job combines competition and idealism, that we set out to help people and we set out to win. I love winning. I love that my job is difficult but I can do it anyway. I love that most of us would be completely helpless when trying to do our work if it wasn’t for all the other people who fill in the gaps. I love the way everyone here has a useful background, be it child survival, sociology, engineering, or the marine corps. I love working in an office that is highly tolerant of eccentricity. I love being judged on results and not how well I know my place in the hierarchy. I love having keys to the office.

I love the way people’s eyes light up when I tell them what I do for a living, once they finally understand. I love that the list of the places we work sounds like a travel guide from hell. I love hearing the taser crackle in the middle of slow afternoons, and that one day we had to send Amy up to the roof because of the tear gas. I love watching Al-Jazeera (and occasionally the world cup) scroll across the TV, and the PR guy sprint down the hall for some urgent media reason.

I love that even though we need the money to do what we do, it’s not actually about the money. I love having MSF hand over their hospitals to us because they leave at arbitrary points and we struggle and suffer and scream to stay, as long as there is need. I love that everyone I’ve met is still an idealist at heart. I love the thousand layers of bitter cynicism that covers the idealism. I love watching the news and knowing that I can do something about it, even if it is only a tiny bit.

I love sitting at my desk at seven pm and knowing I am not the only one there. I love writing a good proposal. I love seeing our logo on the news. I love how completely surreal our field problems tend to be, I love that we put our field programs first, and I love that our field programs are good.