Universal Basic Income: The Next Generation

"Wait, you're saying that in the Federation you don't have to worry about money? You can just schlep around the galaxy seducing alien women?"

“Wait, you’re saying that in the Federation you don’t have to worry about money? You can just schlep around the galaxy seducing alien women?”

Over at Five Thirty Eight, there’s a nice piece by Daniel Flowers on the idea of a universal basic income (UBI). Proponents say it will allow people to choose their careers and live their lives without having to worry about ever being poor. A common criticism is that it will create a massive disincentive to work at all. Several experiments have already been run which have found small, but non-negligible effects on the willingness to work. It is one of the outcomes that a host of new experiments of giving people a long term guaranteed basic income will test.

I am a little worried that these new experiments won’t capture the long term, generational impact of a universal basic income. Let’s imagine I really wanted to be a filmmaker (*cough*), but decided to become an economist because filmmaking is more likely to leave me in poverty. If I’m half way through my career as an economist and I start receiving a basic income, it might be too late for me to really break into filmmaking. Even if I pull it off, adjustment costs will be high, and it’s likely I’d end up embarking on a career which would be less successful than if I had started at a much earlier age. It is these decisions that will largely be picked up when the targets of a UBI experiment are largely adult workers.

What is more interesting is the impact on the next generation. Let’s imagine the UBI is introduced and governments can credibility commit to providing it for one’s entire lifetime. Now, all those aspiring filmmakers can select into the job of their choice with lower adjustment costs and a higher likelihood of actually being accomplished at what they’d most like to do. Who knows if this would have a net positive or negative impact on the creation of value, but it certainly would lead to better sorting. But even the most ambitious UBI experiments which are being proposed are unlikely to pick up these effects. Instead what we need to do is find a group of high schoolers and offer some of them (randomly) a credible lifetime UBI, then sit back and see how it affects career decisions and labour market participation in the long run.

As a side note – how much does relative poverty in developing countries lead to sub-optimal career decisions?

The limitations of the Absolute Palma Index, in two graphs

OVER_9000

Last year, the ODI’s Chris Hoy released a really useful and thoughtful paper pointing out that the basic maths of inequality are often not on the side of the poor. Even if economic growth is evenly spread, the absolute difference between the incomes of the poor and the richest must increase. That is, if you are 10 times as rich as I am and our incomes both grow by 10%, you’ll be taking home more money than I will at the end of the day. If we wanted to see a decrease in absolute differences of income around the world, it would require that the income of the poorest grow a great, great deal faster than that of the richest, something we are unlikely to see any time soon.

The unanswered question, and one that Hoy even posits himself end of the paper, is whether or not focusing on absolute differences in income makes more sense than doubling down on the relative differences in income that are captured by traditional inequality measures such as the Gini, Thiel or Palma indices. We know that income is correlated with lots of good outcomes for the beholder – better health, education, happiness and political power. However, if we are being truly honest with ourselves, we would have to admit that we don’t quite fully understand whether relationships are absolute or relative in nature (although we suspect both matter for happiness). Do the richest 1% of Americans have more political power in the US than the richest 1% of Nigerians have in Nigeria? These are the questions we must ask ourselves if we are to make a strong case for caring about absolute income differences.

In the meantime, I woke up this morning to find that Nick Galasso from Oxfam has made a pitch for using the “Absolute Palma Index” as the next big measure of inequality. The Absolute Palma is a variation of the Palma Index of inequality, which itself is the ratio of the share of income earned by the top 10% of the distribution and that of the bottom 40% of the distribution. The Absolute Palma, by contrast, is the absolute difference between the average income of the top 10% and the average income of the bottom 40%.

As the title suggests, I think there are limitations to the Absolute Palma Index, so consider the post a word of caution. I can think of one strong case against absolute measures: while they might be reasonable at describing immediate gains across a country’s income distribution after a year of growth, they aren’t very useful at describing differences between countries across the globe.

I happened to be playing around with data from Christoph Lakner and Branco Milanovic’s paper on the global income distribution, so I decided to see how the Absolute Palma Index varied across countries. Check out the graph below, which looks at how the Absolute Palma Index varies with mean income across countries. I’ve also highlighted countries which are either very unequal, very equal or somewhere in the middle as measured by the traditional Palma Index.

palma_avg

 

The first thing to note is that there is almost a one-to-one relationship between the log of GDP and the log of the absolute Palma. This is hardly surprising – take any income distribution and raise all incomes by a set percentage and by definition you will see an increase in the Absolute Palma. What this means is that on this index, poor countries do really, really well and rich countries do terribly. And that is most of the story. Log per capita income explains about 93% of the variance in the log of the Absolute Palma. The relative Palma explains most of the remaining unexplained variance, but on the whole has very, very little explanatory power.

The result is that we get some pretty counter-intuitive results. Even though Denmark, Sweden and Norway  are considered by pretty much every person I’ve ever ever spoken to be the most equal places on the planet, they come out as being more unequal than countries that are at the top of the relative Palma Rankings, places like South Africa, Honduras and Brazil.

Which of these countries would you rather be poor in? Presumably the one with the highest average income for the poorest 10%. If we graph the same relationship, instead using the average income of the bottom decile, we find the relationship is less strong, especially so for the poorest countries of the world. But if I had to choose whether I wanted to be born poor in a country with a high or low Absolute Palma index, sign me up for more inequality!

palma_b10

 

Now for the caveats: the data here is as good as 2008, so the basic cross-sectional relationship may have changed (although it hasn’t appeared to have done so ipapen the years leading up to 2008). There is also a difference between moving between countries of different average/median/poorest decile levels and observing individual countries as they grow richer or poorer. This means that there might be use in keeping track in how growth is `allocated’ across the income distribution, something which is already done (and was done carefully in Chris Hoy’s paper).

Absolute measures might tell us something interesting in the world, and I welcome more work on them. But there is a world of difference between adding a tool to the (now overflowing) box of inequality measures and pushing for headline measure that automatically penalizes rich, developed countries for being rich and developed. In addition, before we begin agonizing about absolute differences within countries, someone needs to make a pretty compelling case that they matter more than both absolute levels or relative differences, because these are things we already go through great pains to measure. If we are worried that the incomes of the poor aren’t growing fast enough, then why isn’t it enough to measure that?

Stata code and underlying data available here.

Update: good comments from Chris Hoy below.

So how do you feel about not winning the lottery?

"Here's to exogenous shocks to our neighbour's wealth"

“Here’s to exogenous shocks to our neighbour’s wealth”

Happy New Year. So I’ve been thinking a lot about the charity GiveDirectly recently. They were my charity of choice a year ago and I am planning to make another donation soon. For those of you who are not in the know, GiveDirectly makes unconditional cash transfers to poor people in Kenya and Uganda. For every dollar I donate, roughly 91 cents of that ends up with a household, which is then free to do whatever they want with it.

The other day GiveDirectly sent me an e-mail which linked to a series of interviews with residents of a single village that had been on the receiving end of these unconditional transfers. What is particularly astonishing is that the charity not only asked recipients how they were faring (pretty good, thank you very much), but roughly half of the interviews are with households which were not deemed eligible.

What I might have expected was a degree of unhappiness or animosity over not being selected to receive a $1000 USD transfer. GiveDirectly uses its own methods of determining whether or not a household is classified as “poor” (in the village in question it was households without a metal roof on their primarily residence). Even though (I presume) the charity goes through great pains to make the selection criteria transparent, to people on the ground the whole endeavour might seem a bit, well, random. A bit like a manna from heaven.

Recently, three academics who have previously studied GiveDirectly released a paper suggesting that these transfers do have some sort of negative spillovers on households that didn’t receive the transfer. Johannes Haushofer, Jeremy Shapiro and James Reisinger found that non-recipients in villages which received GiveDirectly transfers reported substantially lower levels of life satisfaction. So if this negative spillover, which I will go ahead and call the Haushofer Effect (there – I just branded it – coming to a book store near you), really exists, then I would expect a substantial amount of lamentation in the GiveDirectly interviews of non-recipients.

To the contrary, most non-recipients said that, overall, they were happy that their village had received the transfers. I found this hard to believe, but after going through 50 interviews of non-recipients, most replied positively to the question “Are you, overall, happy that GiveDirectly came to your village?,” a handful replied neutrally, and only one was vocally unhappy about it. There was another question aimed more at the negative effects of not being selected, and even then only about 25% responded with identifiably-negative comments.

So what is going on here? Why is the Haushofer Effect not appearing in these qualitative interviews? As much as I would like to believe that people do feel happy about seeing their neighbours get a shitload of money, I think I am more likely to believe one of the following:

(1) People don’t want to appear selfish, especially in front of a charity which might might might might give them a ton of cash some day. One respondent actually spelled it out: “”I am happy with your coming with the hope that one day I will also benefit.”

(2) The more complicated answer is that there is something about the conditionality of the question that changes its meaning. These families might be honestly happy about the fact that their neighbours (who are poorer) got transfers. But all the negative externalities associated with that (envy, local prices, etc) still make them unhappy in aggregate. A great example of this appeared in a recent episode of This American Life, where Neil Drummond tried to reconcile the fact that he really was happy his old friend Ta-Nehisi Coates had found fame and fortune with the reality that their friendship was slowly dissolving as a result of it.

(3) This village is different than the average village in the study above in some unobservable way.

 

I have no sense as to which answer is the most likely. And none of it will stop me from donating to GiveDirectly again. That said, while the charity should be praised for putting these interviews up on their website, they could take a step further and link to the paper on negative spillovers.

 

Update: GiveDirectly’s Max Chapnick has a helpful reply/explanation in the comments below, rightly pointing out that the academic paper I cited relies on within-village randomization (rather than GD’s method of targeting poor households), so the Haushofer effect might be primarily driven by the unfairness inherent in that lottery mechanism. This is a pretty plausible reason for the differences between the empirical study and the informal interviews.

The IMF, inequality and the trickle-down of empirical research

"It took so many assumptions to put you together!"

“It took so many assumptions to put you together!”

By Nicolas Van de Sijpe

recent IMF staff discussion note has received a lot of attention for claiming that a smaller income share of the poor lowers economic growth (see also here and here). This piece in the FT is fairly typical, arguing that the paper “establishes a direct link between how income is distributed and national growth.”

It quotes Nicolas Mombrial, head of Oxfam International’s office in Washington DC, saying that (my emphasis): “the IMF proves that making the rich richer does not work for growth, while focusing on the poor and the middle class does” and that “the IMF has shown that `trickle down’ economics is dead; you cannot rely on the spoils of the extremely wealthy to benefit the rest of us.”

The aim of this blog post is to clarify that the results in Table 1 of  the paper, which are based on system GMM estimation, rely on assumptions that are not spelled out explicitly and whose validity is therefore very difficult to assess. In not reporting this and other relevant information, the paper’s application of system GMM falls short of current best practices. As a result, without this additional information, I would be wary to update my prior on the effect of inequality on growth based on the new results reported in this paper.

The paper attempts to establish the causal effect of various income quintiles (the share of income accruing to the bottom 20%, the next 20% etc.) on economic growth. It finds that a country will grow faster if the share of income held by the bottom three quintiles increases. In contrast, a higher income share for the richest 20% reduces growth. As you can imagine, establishing such a causal effect is difficult: growth might affect how income is distributed, and numerous other variables (openness to trade, institutions, policy choices…) might affect both growth and the distribution of income. Clearly, this implies that any association found between the income distribution and growth might reflect things other than just the causal effect of the former on the latter.

To try to get around this problem, the authors use a system GMM estimator. This estimator consists of (i) differenced equations where the changes in the variables are instrumented by their lagged levels and (ii) equations in levels where the levels of variables are instrumented by their lagged differences (Bond, 2002, is an excellent introduction). Roughly speaking, the hope is that these lagged levels and differences isolate bits of variation in income share quintiles that are not affected by growth or any of the omitted variables. These bits of variation can then be used to identify the causal effect of the income distribution on growth. The problem with the IMF paper is that it does not tell you exactly which lagged levels and differences it uses as instruments, making it hard for readers to assess how plausible it is that the paper has identified a causal effects.

Continue reading

I drink your milkshake

blood

The Ethiopians appear to be close to finalizing construction of a large hydroelectric dam on the Omo river, primarily to generate power but also to support local irrigation efforts.  Over the past five years the project has received substantial foreign financing and investment by China and indirectly by the World Bank. However, there appears to have been little consideration of the potential downstream impacts: the Omo river feeds Lake Turkana, which is a source of livelihood for a large number of communities in northern Kenya. The possibility that the lake may be partially drained is obviously upsetting a lot of people, although it does not seem that the Kenyan government is making a big fuss over the project.

This is a typical problem of negative externalities: the Ethiopians aren’t factoring in the welfare of Kenyan Turkana residents in the decision to build the dam. There’s actually some research showing that this is a common problem. From a recent World Bank paper by Sheila Olmstead and Hilary Sigman:

This paper examines whether countries consider the welfare of other nations when they make water development decisions. The paper estimates econometric models of the location of major dams around the world as a function of the degree of international sharing of rivers. The analysis finds that dams are more prevalent in areas of river basins upstream of foreign countries, supporting the view that countries free ride in exploiting water resources. There is weak evidence that international water management institutions reduce the extent of such free-riding.

By their very nature dams generate inequality in the flow of water between upstream and downstream areas. It is easier to pay the cost of hurting downstream communities when they are are in a different country (hey, they don’t vote for you). Ergo, countries are more likely to build dams when the costs are external.

It would be interesting to see what mitigates these effects – it is possible that Kenya’s relative indifference is due to lack of political power on the part of the northern tribes. Are dams with substantial cross-border costs less likely in areas where the proximate ethnic group is quite powerful?

afri_river

You just don’t get me

Timothy Taylor has an excellent write up on the behavioural economics results coming out of the recently-released 2015 World Development Report. One of the most striking findings is that World Bank staff tend to overestimate the tendency for poor people to be fatalistic. From Taylor’s post:

What do development experts think that the poor believe, and how does it compare to what the poor actually believe? For example, development experts were asked if they thought individuals in low-income countries would agree with the statement: “What happens to me in the future mostly depends on me.”  The development experts thought that maybe 20% of tthe poorest third would agree with this statment, but about 80% actually did. In fact, the share of those agreeing with the statement in the bottom third of the income distribution was much the same as for the upper two-thirds–and higher than the answer the devleopment experts gave for themselves!

A number of other bloggers have picked up on this result, albeit without too much discussion about what this implies. I think the implicit assumption here are that development professionals are out of touch with the poor. I think there’s a number of ways we can interpret these results. Here’s the graph in question:

control_wdr

So the first possibility is the implicit one, that Bank staff don’t know what the poor believe, and possibly even that they assume the poor are fatalistic, possibly to a fault. Development economics is only starting to turn its head towards the convergence of fatalism, aspirations and economic outcomes (see, for example, the recent paper by Kate Orkin and her co-authors on aspirations in Ethiopia). The story that development experts buy into this belief is an easy one to believe, but not necessarily the right one. Note that it doesn’t at all take into account what the truth is, only perceptions.

Imagine your life’s outcomes are determined by (A) your own actions and (B) everything else, including randomness. How much weight would you put on (A) vs (B)? There’s no easy answer to this, but it is perfectly possible that the world’s poor ARE poor because (B) is actually much larger than (A). When you live in a country with terrible institutions, no social safety net, frequent economic or environmental shocks, it becomes very clear that (B) dominates (A).

So the second possibility is that Bank staff aren’t assuming the poor are being fatalistic, but that they are being realistic. That they (correctly?) judge that they have little control over their own lives. If they did, then they probably wouldn’t be poor. In this case, if the responses from the above sample are genuine (we might worry that respondents would be unwilling to admit that they have little control), then it’s the poor who have it the wrong way around: they are too optimistic about how much control they have over their own lives.

The second possibility isn’t necessarily any more likely than the first, but we should be cautious about what stories eventually emerge out of the above figure – there are a number of potentially overlapping biases at play, to the extent that it is not just a straightforward story of development professionals not `getting’ the poor.

Land grabs in everything: couldn’t you have just have bought your daughter a pony edition

By most accounts, the recent swath of large scale land acquisitions are being driven by investors wishing to capitalize on rising food prices or expectations of greater demand for land. However, some just want to give their daughter a nice birthday present:

Within months, Heaton was journeying through the desolate southern stretches of Egypt and into an unclaimed 800-square-mile patch of arid desert. There, on June 16 — Emily’s seventh birthday — he planted a blue flag with four stars and a crown on a rocky hill. The area, a sandy expanse sitting along the Sudanese border, morphed from what locals call Bir Tawil into what Heaton and his family call the “Kingdom of North Sudan.” There, Heaton is the self-described king and Emily is his princess.

Uh, what?

Heaton says his claim over Bir Tawil is legitimate. He argues that planting the flag — which his children designed — is exactly how several other countries, including what became the United States, were historically claimed. The key difference, Heaton said, is that those historical cases of imperialism were acts of war while his was an act of love.

At 200,000 hectares, this partially qualifies the, uh, Kingdom of North Sudan to be counted as a land deal in the Land Matrix. This dude even wants to use the land for large scale agriculture:

The next step in Heaton’s plan is to establish positive relationships with Sudan and Egypt by way of converting his “kingdom” into an agricultural production center as his children, especially Emily, wanted.

Hat tip to Karol Bodreaux.

Development as freedom from back pain

The Batman solution to back pain: repeated punches to the back, lots of push ups, gruelling climb out of a pit of despair. Sounds a lot like life during my PhD.

As if turning 30 wasn’t enough of an incentive to start feeling anxious about getting older, I recently started having back trouble. The other day, getting out of bed, I threw my back out, and so ended up on the floor with my iPad, as usual contemplating how I could turn this unfortunate turn of events into a blog post.

Lower back pain is particularly frustrating, because as far as the medical establishment is concerned it is an ailment without a clear treatment. Even the most standard type of treatment prescribed by the NHS (rest, painkillers and physio) only shows very moderate success.

This frustration pales in comparison to that of having everyone tell you what they think you should be doing. Physiotherapy,  Yoga, massage, chiropractor, better posture, swimming, acupuncture, eating rare herbs and lying down (this suggestion came from a Tanzanian friend), or the standard GP response of just deal with it.

Many people, often those who have suffered from pain themselves, will swear by their given treatment. I’ve always found this perplexing: surely if there was a obvious method for curing lower back pain, that method would quickly have spread and someone would have become very rich. There are of course reasons why this might not be the case. Let’s consider a few:

1. None of the treatments work, and people just randomly recover from back pain.

This is particularly disconcerting, but given that most of these treatments haven’t been proven with rigorous methods, it’s perfectly possible that people are just recovering at random. If you are trying out treatment X when you happen to get better, it’s likely that you’re going to start seeing a casual relationship where there isn’t one.

2. People have back pain for random reasons and some treatments only work for some types of lower back pain.

This is possibly even more disconcerting. There are a myriad number of potential causes for back pain, and not every treatment will work. So even if you run an RCT examining the impact of a given treatment on pain, if the proportion of people suffering from the exact ailment that the treatment will fix is small enough you might end up failing to reject the null hypothesis anyway. So no particular treatment wins because we don’t have a good sense of what causes back pain, nor which treatment is most appropriate for a given circumstance.

I feel that most of development is (unfortunately) a lot like back pain. There are a lot of people out there who think they know the answer, but if they are living in worlds 1) or 2) where development is random or counties exhibit heterogeneity in the underlying structural prerequisites, then we’re in for a tough time. This isn’t a call to start lamenting – we just need to be aware of the various biases which lead us to over-prescribe certain policies (situation (1)) and under-prescribe others (situation (2)).

Is the land grab debate a proxy war?

unicron

Is the land grab debate about property rights or consolidation?

So much to write, but so little time to do so. Instead I’d just like to end the week with a quick thought on the evolution of the land grabs debate. I’ve been slowly picking my way through Lorenzo Cotula’s fairly comprehensive book on large scale land acquisitions, an I was stuck by the following passage:

“Also, in some cases it is difficult to tell whether a reported deal relates to a new plantation, or to the acquisition of an existing plantation – for example, where a state farm is privatized. The two types of deals would have very different consequences for pressures on land, though even acquiring an existing farm can increase land competition – for instance, if an old state farm has been partly occupied by squatters who are evicted following the privatization, or if the deal involves expanding the existing plantation.”

Cotula is reflecting on the difficulties of discerning land purchases in the Land Matrix which involve some form of consolidation (land owner by multiple smallholder farmers being converted into large-scale farms) and those which do not change the scale of land ownership. This is an important distinction, as it implies entirely different concerns over large scale land acquisitions.

For a large part, the land grab debate has been presented as an issue of property rights: rural communities are having their (possibly customary) rights to land violated when governments lease or sell the land to large national or international firms. This implies direct welfare losses from losing control of a productive asset – imagine if someone showed up and stole your laptop or your main mode of transport (or your house).

But there is a second issue here: even if property rights were perfectly enforced  and all large scale land acquisitions were both fair and voluntary, they would still involve a significant amount of land consolidation, with smallholder plots being converted into much, much large farms. This raises an important question: once we sort out the rights issues, what form of agriculture would we actually like to encourage in these settings?

It is no secret that many NGOs, such as Oxfam, have a bias towards smallholder farming (let’s lead aside whether or not that bias is justified or not, it could very well be). Is the current onslaught on large scale land deals by these NGOs purely about protecting the rights of people, or is this just another front in a much larger war on land consolidation?

Not only the state will bleed

There wasn’t much for me to do when I first joined the Budget Division of Malawi’s Ministry of Finance back in 2006. My particular position had been vacant for almost a year, so it took a bit of time before the acting budget director grew accustomed enough to start diverting work my way. One of the very first things I worked on was an attempt to reconcile the difference between expenditure ceilings set by my department and actual reports of expenditure from the Accountant General’s department.

What complicated this process was the fact that the Accountant General had recently adopted an Integrated Financial Management System (IFMIS), essentially a comprehensive software platform for approving and tracking expenditure. A lot of promises came with IFMIS – the ability to track expenditure in real time and keep a tight leash on expenditure by line ministries. Yet, when I had arrived, the budget department had yet to fully adopt the platform, meaning that our (often fairly specific) budget ceilings had to be manually reconciled with IFMIS-generated expenditure reports.

I doubt that the budget director seriously believed that this greenhorn civil servant was really going to accomplish much with this work and probably saw the task as something to keep me busy while I grew more accustomed to my environment. Even so, I quickly noticed that IFMIS-generated reports seriously deviated from what was being approved by the Budget Division, sometimes even showing expenditure which was above and beyond what had been mandated by our department.

At my director’s prompting, I visited the relevant department at the Account General’s to request more detailed reports from IFMIS. The likely culprit was some of data problem, and I was curious to get to the bottom of it, seeing the whole exercise as a problem with some sort of technical solution. While the civil servants I spoke to at the AG were friendly enough and agreed to send me reports, upon my return to the Ministry of Finance it was later made clear to me that the AG wasn’t too fond of this unknown fresh-faced mzungu making random requests. Not long after, more pressing work diverted my attention, and this particular issue faded into the background.

Later, our own department grappled with the adoption of IFMIS. While technological solutions are frequently touted as solutions to institutional problems (this platform will eliminate corruption!), my experience was that without some basic level of capacity in place, even the most advanced platform was doomed to fail. Hence, if two government ministries can’t keep their budget tallies synchronised in Excel, they are unlikely to be able to get a more complex `black box’ system to work properly.  This is problematic, because when finance systems don’t work properly, it’s very difficult to tell the difference between corruption and incompetence.* My feeling at the time that the discrepancies between the AG’s expenditure records were due to the latter, even though I heard the occasional, unsubstantiated whisper that someone at the AG was stealing money.

This was surprising to me, as there had been a fairly visible crack down on corruption and leakage during the first term of then-president Bingu wa Mutharika. However, it was widely recognized that during his second, more tumultuous term (which began after I had left the country), government systems became more porous and corruption become more common.

One might have expected things to improve upon Mutharika’s sudden death and the ascension of the pragmatic Joyce Banda to the presidency. Yet despite wowing a lot of donors and even some skeptics – including yours truly – her government seems to have inherited many of its predecessors failings: a recent scandal has broken out over implications that there has been substantial theft by employees of the Accountant General’s department, who exploited loopholes in IFMIS to siphon off money.

We tend to lump all dodgy dealings into the broad category of corruption, but there is a clear difference between institutionalised corruption, where political leaders divert resources towards their own benefit, and the kind of rampant theft which goes on when you have a leader who either is unaware of or cannot control corrupt practices. Banda’s situation clearly falls in the latter – given that she has, until very recently, ruled over cabinet  of former members of Mutharika’s party as well as the opposition – she has always been in a precarious position and thus unable to fully keep everyone in her government in line.

The scandal hasn’t been completely bloodless. The recently-appointed director of the Budget Division, Paul Mphwiyo, was nearly shot to death following his attempts to close the loopholes leading to theft of public resources. I knew Paul during my time in Malawi: he was serving as an assistant budget director when I was working for the Ministry of Finance, although we didn’t often work closely together. Let’s hope he recovers quickly and his assailants are eventually apprehended, although I have my doubts about the latter.

For those wanting to keep tabs on the scandal, Kim Yi Dionne remains an excellent source for recent Malawi news and analysis.

 

*This confusion can be easily exploited.

Update: This post got a little more attention than I thought it would, so just wanted to add a little addendum.

I want to be cautious about drawing too many conclusions from my (very brief) interaction with the AG’s system – the Cashgate scandal is another animal entirely. In weighing the corruption or incompetence possibilities, it’s highly likely that my situation fell in the latter. I just felt it was worth noting that these things aren’t always clear, and that there was a bit of an administrative wall between the Account General’s Office and the Budget Division of the Ministry of Finance (they were, at least when I was there, separate `votes’ on the cabinet and in separate buildings.) Also, for the sake of my former department, I want to make it clear that this thing at least seems to be entirely of the AG’s making, and I saw nothing in the Budget Division during my time there that suggested any wrongdoing of this sort.