Photo: Douglas Pfeiffer Cardoso | Flickr Creative Commons
Public-private partnerships (PPPs) in Brazil have been around since 2004 when federal legislation established the legal framework to make them possible. Since then, approximately 100 PPP contracts have been signed in Brazil, totaling almost 160 billion Brazilian reais ($50 billion) in private investment in numerous sectors, including hospitals, schools, public lighting, sanitation, solid waste management, sport arenas, public buildings, urban transport, and roads. Some notable successes include the Belo Horizonte schools PPP, which supports non-pedagogical services in 51 schools, and the 298-bed Bahia Subúrbio Hospital, which opened in 2010.
Global development as a universal objective to improve people’s social and economic wellbeing is a relatively recent concept.
It was first embodied in the United Nations Charter, signed in San Francisco 71 years ago this week, which stated: “the United Nations shall promote higher standards of living, full employment, and conditions of economic and social progress and development.” In time, at least among practicing economists in academia and policymakers in government, “development” came to be seen as improved economic opportunity through the accumulation of capital and rising productivity.
Kyaw San has trouble studying at night. The student from Yangon Division’s Buu Tar Suu village finds it especially difficult during the rainy season when his old solar-powered lamps cannot be charged, forcing him to study by candlelight.
Win Win Nwe, a grade 5 student, also often prepares for exams by candlelight. Her family can’t always afford to buy candles, adding another obstacle to an activity many take for granted. “If we can afford candles, we buy them. If we can’t, we don’t. We struggle and do our best,” said her father Kyi Htwe.
Today, two-thirds of Myanmar’s population is not connected to the national electricity grid and 84% of rural households lack access to electricity. No power means no light, no refrigerators, no recharging phones and batteries. Small businesses can’t stay open in the evenings, and clinics cannot refrigerate medicines. Access to reliable and affordable energy is essential for a country’s development, job creation, poverty reduction and shared prosperity goals.
Since the 1990s, inequality has risen faster in Indonesia than in any other East Asian country apart from China. In 2002, the richest 10 per cent of households consumed as much as the poorest 42 per cent. By 2014, they consumed as much as the poorest 54 per cent. Why should we be worried about this trend? What is causing it, and how is the current administration addressing rising inequality? And what still needs to be done?
Inequality is not always bad; it can provide rewards for those who work hard and take risks. But high inequality is worrying for reasons beyond fairness. High inequality can impact economic growth, exacerbate conflict, and curb the potential of current and future generations. For example, recent research indicates that, on average, when a higher share of national income goes to the richest fifth of households, economic growth slows—whereas countries grow more quickly when the poorest two-fifths receive more.
Two years ago, 23-year-old Pedro Flores became a technician specializing in renewable energy—all thanks to a degree from a technical institute in Maule, located in one of Chile’s poorest regions. After completing his degree in just two years, Flores became the only person in his family to obtain an advanced degree. Today, he lives in Santiago and works for a private solar energy multinational corporation, where he earns a competitive salary that is only slightly below the average for entry-level professionals in his field, most of whom spent over five years in university.
My father holds a special place in my heart – and with Fathers Day this past Sunday, I want to give a shout out to my dad (now long gone) and share a story about him.
One summer afternoon when I was about nine years old, I was in the kitchen of our house in an un-named tropical country. I heard a rap at the back door. I peeked out – a man I didn’t recognize stood there. He thrust a small white envelope he’d been holding into my hands and rushed off.
I turned the envelope in my hands curiously – it was creased – as if it had been folded in a pocket- and it was sealed, and my dad’s name was written on it in blue ink. When my dad got home, I gave him the envelope and explained how it had arrived.
He took it from me and went to his room and changed, and a little while later he came back with the open envelope in his hand. We sat together on the porch, as we sometimes did. Dad looked both thoughtful and angry. After a moment, he said, “I want to share something with you; it’s upsetting but important, and I think you’re old enough to be told.”
Kuwait was historically a financial hub and a regional trade zone and, even over the last decade, it has experienced steady levels of economic growth. Yet the recent decline in oil prices and lower levels of investment raises the prospect of greater economic uncertainty for the country in coming years.
The year of 2017 was one of many recent reminders of that “new normal”—from Hurricanes Harvey, Irma, and Maria that pounded coastal United States and the Caribbean to the severe drought that struck Somali, which led to the displacement and even life losses of individuals and families.
Even when lives are not threatened, livelihoods are at stake: Without major action taken to invest in urban resilience, climate change may force up to 77 million urban residents back into poverty by 2030.
[Report: Investing in Urban Resilience]
This helps explain why many city leaders attending the World Urban Forum in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia this week resonate with the same message: Sustainable cities are resilient cities.
At the forum, we spoke with national, municipal, and civil society leaders on the issue of urban resilience—including ministers and mayors from three Latin American countries, a region full of emerging cities and aspiring populations that are no stranger to hurricanes, earthquakes, and other natural disasters.
Watch the videos below and leave a comment to let us know what your city may be doing differently to enhance urban resilience.
President, 100 Resilient Cities
There are few better ways to reveal whether a government’s rhetoric matches reality than examining how it raises and spends public money. Are funds being spent on the things it said they would be? Are these investments achieving the outcomes that were intended? In short, are government budgets accountable?
The traditional model for how accountability functions is rather simple. "Horizontal accountability" describes the oversight exerted over the executive arm of government by independent state bodies such as parliaments and supreme audit institutions. "Vertical accountability" describes the influence citizens hold through the ballot box.
Between elections and outside of formal institutions, however, opportunities for influencing how governments manage public resources are limited. As a consequence, this simple vertical/horizontal model has proved increasingly inadequate for capturing how budget accountability works (or doesn’t) in the real world; this is especially true in developing countries, where democratic processes and formal oversight institutions can be somewhat fragile and ineffective.
Four years ago, Juan Angel Sandoval, a resident of Barrio Buenos Aires in the Honduran municipality of Siguatepeque, received water at home only three times a week. His was not an isolated reality. Most of his neighbors, were in the same situation. "It was annoying because the water was not enough," says Juan Angel.