#2: Summits are Not for Me

It impresses the pants off people to have passes to UN meetings, pictures with heads of state, rub shoulders with Bono, and other seemingly important things that come with the summiteering that's inevitable in global campaigning. It's widely accepted (but somehow not widely talked about) that successfully engaging at these summits is devilishly difficult, and very expensive. It's also an unfortunate reality that, even though it rarely provides results, it needs to be done just the same. These are the kinds of things that drive we evaluation people nuts - we know costs are high and results are limited, but the work must go on, even at the expense of more effective and cheaper work elsewhere. 

They're almost never the time and place decisions are made - outcome documents were usually negotiated ages before, and while there's occasional wiggle room at the actual summit, big breakthroughs usually happen much earlier in the process. 

They're designed to make public mobilization difficult. They're often held in inaccessible places, information about the logistics of the meeting is often released at the last minute, there are usually a gazillion side events taking place. It's almost inevitably an organizational nightmare. 

They're not a great place to get your message out. There are so many people doing so many different things, that even if there is consensus around your message, and  you're well resourced, well coordinated, and so on….your message is very likely to get lost in the noise. Plus, no matter how diligent the preparation, one recent global event (like the Greek debt crisis) often dominates discussions (and therefore press coverage).

So why bother? Partly because it impresses people, and can therefore contribute to organizational legitimacy. It's great to be able to tell funders you met with Ban ki Moon, and have speakers from your organization addressing the General Assembly. Partly, to be part of a club. This is where global campaigning organizations go, so it's where a lot of networking and outreach happens. International travel is expensive, so these events, when people are all face to face, are when a lot of important planning happens (even if it's often an afterthought). And partly because it's often the culmination of a lot of other more important work, and making space for that is important. You need to 'be seen' at global summits to be part of working groups and planning processes where more substantive work gets done. I wish everyone could frame them for what they are, though, and save all of the expensive, bedazzling media hubris. 

In spite of all the complaints I have about summits, I recently discovered that they do build useful skills; at a recent overcrowded and disorganized concert I went to with a colleague, we were super stars at figuring out which queues we needed to stand in for which tickets, and how to get access to the right sections of seating! 

5 reflections on 5 years in MDGs campaigning: #1

1. Success isn't necessarily what I thought it was.

It's just not sexy to say I'm working on evaluating the global coordination of national  civil society campaigns on the ratification of the optional protocol of the international covenant on economic and social rights. In comparison, my PhD research sounds riveting. Revolutions aren't inspired because a bunch of people read the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Even people who are professionally immersed in the field don't keep track of every regional and thematic protocol and declaration. But, this is the level at which government commitments are made, so accountability starts there. Even for die hard policy wonks, it can be tedious wading through jargon and budgets to figure out what governments are actually going to do, and what can be done to influence it.

Somewhere, in the back of your head, you always know that all of these sub committees, statements, teleconferences, and working groups are supposed to mean something, in the real world, to people. There are occasional flashes of clarity, when your neighbor's daughter is going to be able to finish matric because the age of the child support grant has been extended, or the church around the corner can afford to offer a second free meal in the community each week because taxes on some basic foods have been reduced, and you realize this is why we all sit in meetings about MDG 1 and 2 progress….These moments are rare, and creating them is actually a specific kind of work. In addition to my 'actual' job, it's been virtually a second job to learn how to see, and reinforce why, the little bit that my organization does matters to people. 

Finally, policy change is often a gold standard in a campaign's effectiveness. It is great when it happens; it's hard to accomplish, and makes a convincing story. But it's not the only thing campaigns can achieve. It's really impressive to be able to say that Russia's health care system is now much more accessible to people with disabilities because of a campaign. It sounds less exciting to say that this campaign is one of the first times civil society in Russia has come together to advocate collaboratively on issues outside of each organization's technical specialty. This may turn out to be irrelevant; or, it could be far more important than a  specific policy change. We're not very good at measuring lots of things. That doesn't make them any more or less important. 

After these 5 years, I am finally confident in saying that we have done some amazing things to make the world a better place. This is in spite of a range of frustrating inefficiencies and mistakes along the way. But there are also times when I have to admit that we don't know what works; or, in fact, for various reasons can't do what works. Statements of solidarity are good for the morale of the people who issue them; sometimes they may do something more, sometimes not. Sometimes, stories about 'things that worked' come back to us; sometimes it feels like energy is being thrown into a void, and we don't know if efforts were wasted or not. As the resident monitoring and evaluation person, it has been my job to make sure we have structured ways of thinking about our impact, we know what our outcomes are and have evidence about how we can work most effectively to achieve various sorts of things. This has been important, and I think it's an area where knowledge is growing very, very quickly. But one thing I never would have thought I'd say five years ago, is that there are things it's okay to take on faith. Donor reporting happens in log frames, but outcomes happen in people's lives. That may not change the way I do my job, but it does change where my motivation comes from.

Statistics and last names

Like a hefty chunk of South Africans, I am unmarried, and soon to become a mother. According to a random website, only 35% of South African children were living with both of their biological parents in 2008. There are all the familiar explanations of AIDs, the migrant labour system, poverty, etc...Still, it's hard not to feel like I'm becoming a statistic, getting caught up in a stream of the dark underbelly of a society that is inspiring, exhilarating - and unquestionably difficult to swallow.

So, sorting out what this means for me one step at a time...the baby's father pushed very strongly to give the kid his last name. We initially spoke enthusiastically of creating a new last name, but when it came down to it, he wanted to pass his name on. Being typically conflict averse, particularly around such loaded topics, I agreed.

Now, I'm having second thoughts. Probably not strong enough second thoughts that I'll bother to argue, but perhaps strong enough that I'll keep thinking about where my discomfort is coming from for awhile. There are various dimensions of it I can identify at the moment:

• The practical. Due to the logistics of our lives, I am definitely the one more likely to be travelling internationally with the kid, alone. Rumour has it this can be complicated with divergent last names. Why not at least make our lives equally complicated?
• The feminist. Why is it that the father's last name is the default? Particularly if the kid'll be living with the mother? Wouldn't it be a favor to society to make little symbolic inroads against patriarchy wherever possible?
• The emotional. I have no particular attachment to passing on my last name. He, apparently, does. So, he should get this one, right? The problem is, I feel like instead of being some sort of positive demonstration of family connectivity (which I'm sure it could be, in a different family setup), this is more an invasive stamp of ownership....bad for all of us. But, I also might be imagining things.
• The aesthetic. I don't particularly like his last name; it's very boring, and excludes a lot of my favorite first name candidates. Is that a silly thing to consider?

The conclusion? No clue. Life isn't fair, and South Africa is a good place to live for discovering how to live with it?

Coming back to reality

After more than two months in India, wedding hopping and catching up with good friends and good food, I fly back to Johannesburg in less than a week. Usually after this much time travelling, I'm itching to get home....but right now, I'm oddly ambivalent. Perhaps because Nagpur feels about as much like home as Johannesburg does, perhaps because of all of the not-so-fun chores that are waiting for my return, from dentist visits to construction in my flat, to trying to become gainfully employed....And of course, the very unsettling dilemma of how to create a nurturing space for a baby in my current Johannesburg life will start becoming much more real. So far, in a different life on a different continent, it's been a comfortably academic question - pondering with supportive friends about choices, crime, finances, difficult relationships and returning to school all being distant curiosities to muse about over tea. From here, I feel very calm about it all. In a week, I'll need to start navigating everything. Eish!

Still, a part of me is looking forward to getting back....cooking for myself, seeing good friends I've been missing, catching the tail end of summer, getting some 'thinking' work done that's always hard on the road, and tackling all those back burner things that always build up while away.

You can't see through the phone

The job search is going much better than expected. So well, in fact, that I've switched modes from 'Oh no! I'm about to be an unemployed single mother, my life depends on finding someone, anyone, who will hire me!' to realising that I need to think a bit about where and how I want to work.

I have been thoroughly spoiled by several years of complete freedom in my job; no physical office, and no fixed hours. I've internalised this working culture so much that the idea of going to a place, most days, to do something I could most likely do equally effectively from home at midnight on a Tuesday, seems ludicrous. Not that I think every job in the world should decentralise; more that I'm not sure I'm psychologically ready for a normal office job.

I realised this well into the recruitment process for a couple of positions. Plus, while telephone interviews meant that the issue of pregnancy didn't come up at all, I also realised that I really wouldn't feel good going on maternity leave a couple months into a new position. It's nice to know that legal protection is in place to allow it....but it would also be very disruptive, to me and the organisation, and I can imagine it creating a lot of bad will on all sides.

There has to be a better solution...something that will allow flexibility to stay with the baby, prevent me from going broke, and not make anyone feel cheated. I suspect the solution will be back to school for a year of PhD progress, if I can scare up any money for it.

Bottom line: I think I might be nuts for not taking the first job I was offered.

No Happiness in India?

I've been tasked to do some of the preparation for a research trip to Bhutan to study the economics of happiness. Due to logistics of the project (and the high cost of spending time in Bhutan), India will be the launching pad for most of the work. So, in my remaining weeks in India, I'm to have some preliminary discussions with various 'relevant' people in India doing research on alternative economic development models generally, and the economics of happiness and Gross Happiness Index of Bhutan specifically.

The economics of happiness, while perhaps not a core topic of research most places, is also far from a fringe idea. Over the past 30 years, it has made the news, been discussed and criticised, and had think tanks and academic programmes founded around it. Documentaries and TED talks extolling the virtues of economic localisation use some kind of quantification of 'happiness' as a departure point. While it's not a yet a particularly cohesive field of study, there are emerging theories and debates (equality is important. So is the environment. It's harder to figure out what culture is).

So, I was enthusiastic about getting the ball rolling. The problem is, the ball game doesn't seem to interest Indian academics much. I can find virtually no evidence of work being done on the economics of happiness - or even really different models of economic development. Why not? Is there some agreed on vocabulary about 'Gandhian economics' that plays this role, and I just don't know about? Has the spurt of rapid economic growth distracted all academic discourse on economics in India? Is it considered to 'fluffy' for more cash strapped universities?

I'm quite surprised that from the intellectual home of 'Development as Freedom', more isn't being said on this. I'd welcome any leads, or insight into why they are so hard to find...

Incubating in India

I'm sure everywhere in the world has pregnancy related traditions, I'm just lucky enough to get quite a span of them in this particular incubation period. In America, the message seems to be to carry on with your normal routine, but be a bit more virtuous (exercise more, eat better).

A common thread between South Africa and India is the need to keep the right balance of 'hot and cold'. In either place, there's no sitting on the floor. However, in India, temperature extends to food as well, and I'm discouraged from a variety of 'hot' foods - papaya and ginger, for example - and stuffed with ghee instead. Happily, I'm so well cooked for that just about anything could be added or subtracted from my diet and I'd still be round and happy.

Exercise is more or less banned (beyond puddling around the terrace), as are locking and unlocking things, and things that might be 'jarring', like taking auto rickshaws, or picking up anything heavier than a newspaper. I haven't bothered to announce that when I get back to Johannesburg, I may well be packing up and moving flats, on my own....scary thought, and a post for another day.