Ratings1
Average rating5
Oh, man. This was really good. Full disclaimer: I used to work for Esther Duflo, who is mentioned a couple times in the book. And I've lately been thinking unconditional cash transfers are a thing. Like, a really cool thing. Is it a MAGICAL BULLET-like object? I have been trained not to think so. But one gets excited.
Anyway. This book shares many similarities with another excellent, modern bio about a big guy in development: Mountains Beyond Mountains. First, both are reeeeally well-written, telling a narratively coherent tale full of emotional depths. This is not something to smirk at, given that development economics and public health can be pretty sterile, scientific, sloggy stuff when you get down into the details of things. Second, the subjects are very similar: Jeff Sachs and Paul Farmer are both portrayed as hyper-intelligent, tempestuous firebrands, driven by incredible drive and energy to fulfill a near-saintly moral mission. They are also well-full of moral clarity, and are thus unambiguously convinced of their correctness - nay, their duty - to do things exactly the way they have conceived of doing them.
The big difference is that, while Mountains Beyond Mountains is a near-hagiography that has inspired who-knows-how-many public health professionals, I don't think The Idealist will be inspiring much beyond some heavy sighs; of discouragement, of lament. Sachs has always been a controversial, occasionally smirk-inducing figure in the profession - but then, anyone who confidently asserts he's found the solution to it all would be met with such reactions. The MTV/Angelina Jolie video diary thing, I remember, got some LOLs when it came out. But his reputation really started to take hits when the inevitable questions came up: just how well are those Millennium Villages doing? I won't get into the details, though I did enjoy this blog about it.
The author, Nina Munk, does a great job of describing, in great detail, the human aspect of the Millennium Villages - as embodied in two of Sachs's front-line soldiers; that is, the managers of two such villages in Uganda and Kenya. Their backgrounds, their optimism, their highs and lows really make the book what it is. It's fascinating and heartbreaking. And it really encapsulates the, at times, disheartening job of development: all the myriad ways things go wrong, the layers and layers of problems. Because a lot of “high-level” development, the stuff done by high-powered academics and donors, takes place in the cushy hotels and endless airport lounges of the world. And what's sad (for a young professional, like me) is that this isn't new: Ross Coggins was already sardonically lamenting it almost 40 years ago. It really makes you wonder about the “development” industry, and incentive structures, and politics, and so on.
Munk alludes to some of these “development set”-y notions, by noting Sachs's hyper-brief, hyper-energetic, hyper-packaged visits to his Villages, and the disconnect between the theories and the reality.
But I digress too much. Is this a useful introduction to someone who knows nothing about development? Yes, I think so. I think it introduces many of the major “characters” (Sachs and beyond), and many of the common pitfalls of doing this work. It doesn't answer why some countries are rich and some poor, but it does show what it means to be rich and poor, and why it's so difficult to change things. And Sachs's “fall” is not so unique - how many idealistic, intelligent people have seen their elegant theories crash and burn against reality? - but what makes it special is, perhaps, that we watched it live and it encompassed so many millions of dollars.
Very, very recommended.