A Life Half Lived

by Andrew MacLeod

  The juxtaposition between religion and sex is quite astonishing in The Philippines. In the well-to-do suburb of Makati sits the Green Belt Mall. Here there is a church directly opposite the Havana Café. After the conclusion of the sunset church service, many mainly women of the congregation headed straight into the Havana Café, a place well-known for prostitution to foreigners, where many of the ‘women’ were clearly underage.

  Part of UNICEFs work in The Philippines was to try and formally raise the age of consent, which for many years had been as low as 12 or 13. This is not a surprise when you consider that the age of consent in Spain is still 13, Iceland 14 and Italy 15. The US and Australia, which have the age of consent ranging from16 to 18 depending on the state law applying, are actually at the older end of the scale.

  One 22-year-old friend explained to me how she part-funded her education through school as a teenager. “I was a cam girl from 13 to 17,” she said. A cam girl creates a profile on a site for ‘dating’ Asian girls. She would allow herself to be contacted by much older men, and in return for a small amount transferred through Western Union or similar services would perform requested acts to herself on camera.

  According to my friend, it was common and often expected by mothers that daughters would help fund their educations this way.

  In my view, one of the great perversities in The Philippines was that the lack of sex education imposed by the Catholic Church meant that girls didn’t get the opportunity to discuss or learn about the dangers of the internet, the sex trade and sexual activity. Voilà, the high rate of pregnancy, STDs and the creation of ‘cam girls’.

  What was worse, until the age of consent was raised, it was legal under Philippines laws for Australian, German or American old men to suggest a ‘visit in person’ to The Philippines to meet the girl in exchange for a ‘gift’, a real-life visit to the cam girls. The sex trade was alive and well in The Philippines, very often with the encouragement of the mothers.

  With what is now known about the ‘food for sex’ scandals by UN peacekeepers in west Africa, the UN staff roles in child and teenage trafficking into Bosnia during the war, and the goings on in places such as the Havana Café, it would not surprise me if one day the UN gained a reputation as a harbourer of paedophiles. Like the Catholic Church, most early revelations of peace-keeping abuses have only been revealed by news organisations. Such was the case in Cambodia in the early 1990s and later in Somalia, Bosnia and Ethiopia.

  “I am afraid there is clear evidence that acts of gross misconduct have taken place,” said Kofi Annan when Secretary-General and on several occasions. “This is a shameful thing for the United Nations to have to say, and I am absolutely outraged by it.”

  Yet no major public investigation took place. Given my work as a junior lawyer defending Catholic priests against the civil claims of paedophilia, perhaps one day the UN and the Catholic Church will be challenging each other in the reputation stakes.

  The United Nations is not known for its forthrightness and candour in internal investigations. It has been criticised for ignoring evidence of wrongdoing in the past, including accusations of rape and murder by peacekeepers.

  But this didn’t end the surprise in The Philippines.

  More astonishing is the juxtaposition between the towns of San Fernando and Angeles City north of Manila. Since 1962 in San Fernando on Easter Friday people have volunteered, or paid, to be crucified. People are hammered to real crosses with long brass nails and hung for a period of time. Blissfully, this re-enactment of Christ’s death is not followed all the way through to the final moments. People are pulled down to seek medical treatment. On the way to the crucifixion site, hundreds of people flagellate themselves with wooden sticks until the skin is torn from their backs. This is all done in the name of religion.

  In Angeles City, 15 km up the road, lies the den of prostitution that even the Lonely Planet guide calls ‘the home of child prostitution in The Philippines’.

  One has to ask why a travel guide knows where the child prostitution is, but local police seemingly do not. I found this contrast between Angeles City and San Fernando baffling and I am yet to fully understand the dynamics that have made The Philippines what it is today.

  Given the inordinate influence of the Catholic Church, the threats of terrorism and the seeming lack of desire of the government to bring in programs to genuinely improve the lives of the people, the ineffectiveness of the United Nations and the international community in that country, I was very pessimistic about the future of The Philippines.

  The only positive I took from The Philippines was the scuba diving. I was lucky enough to meet up with a group of underwater dive photographers who taught me their trade. Underwater photography is now one of my passions. But I didn’t join the UN to become a photographer. As my contract was coming to an end I was glad to leave The Philippines, and glad to leave the UN.

   10.

  Who Wants a Strong UN Anyway?

  For many readers of this book it may come as a surprise that the United Nations is not already a single coherent organisation. What might come as a more of a disillusioning surprise is that the United Nations cannot become one either.

  Think about it in this way: ask yourself in whose interest it is to have a strong and efficient United Nations? It is certainly in the interest of the poor and dispossessed people of the earth. But these people have no power and no say. Is it in the interests of a politician who is a member of his or her national parliament with the objective to ‘protect his or her family’s land interest’ to economically, educationally or socially empower the poor? In the vast majority of cases the answer is ‘no’. If it is not in that person’s interest, will they do it? Probably not.

  So then let’s ask the question who decides on reforming the United Nations? It is the members of the Security Council and the General Assembly, that is governments, not people. So, in which government’s interest that they reform United Nations?

  The government of Zimbabwe would not appreciate a strong and effective United Nations to tell Robert Mugabe where his country is going wrong? What about Libya? What about Iran? Is it in the interest of the government of the United States that a strong and efficient United Nations might start asking questions about the execution rate in Texas? Or in the interest of the government of Australia to have questions about Australia’s treatment of either the indigenous population or of asylum seekers?

  There are very few countries of which one could honestly say it was in that country’s politicians’ interest to have a strong and effective United Nations. Again, here I differentiate between a politician’s interest and his or her country’s interest. It is quite depressing to consider that the vast majority of governments do not run a foreign policy based on collective good.

  It was slowly dawning on me that working in the UN was like working in one great big Yes Minister episode. While there are many staff of the United Nations who strive tirelessly to improve the world, in my subjective opinion, those staff members are in the minority.

  Reflections on the UN In the United Nations not all employees are equal. There are employees on permanent and temporary contracts and those who are employed as ‘consultants’. Depending on the type of contract they were employed with, employees had very different rights, benefits, pay, and tax concessions.

  There exists a very rigid ranking within the staff of the United Nations. The rank structure, starting lowest to highest, began at G (General) level, then P (Professional) level, followed by D (Director) level, then Assistant Secretary General, Undersecretary General and Secretary General. Within each of these ranks are a different number of grades, and within each grade are a differing number of steps.

  The unexpected thing for me was that there was more discussion about level, step, rank and entitlements than there ever was about poverty, development, or the general state of the world. People tended to focus on a career path, and not on the people who need the organisation’s assistance. There wa
s a number of highly motivated, well-intentioned and effective staff within the UN system but these people seemed to be a minority.

  When one understands the human resources system of the UN though, one can have sympathy for the focus on human resource issues. There were two main ways in which one could search for jobs within the UN system. One was through the websites of the United Nations various agencies or through the collective system called Galaxy. The second way was to look for temporary or fixed-term appointments advertised on Relief Web.

  The average time between advertising and filling a job on Relief Web was around 180 days, and the average time between advertising on Galaxy and filling a job was 230 days. Given that many of these contracts were for three or six months, it meant that many of the UN staff members on temporary or fixed-term contracts were constantly worrying about their next job, and the job after their next job.

  The human resources systems didn’t encourage long-term work efficiency from its short-term staff. It also created unintended and counterproductive consequences. Many UN employees originally from the developing world find themselves being paid much higher incomes than they would earn in their home country. In many cultures people overseas earning huge salaries are expected to pay for a large number of extended family back home. This is understandable.

  In Geneva, a person’s right to be in Switzerland is derived from their ‘Carte de Légitimation’ based on their work status with the United Nations. If one loses a job with the United Nations then the Swiss Foreign Affairs Ministry is informed immediately. The right to remain in Switzerland by virtue of the UN employment is withdrawn.

  Picture this: you are from a developing country and have been working for the United Nations for a decade. You have two children both of whom are in the international school, receiving high quality and subsidised education. You are earning far more than you ever would in your home nation and you are sending money to your extended family back home, many of whom depend upon your income. If you lose your job, your right to remain in Switzerland would be forfeited. Your children would be taken out of school and your entire family would have to return to your home developing country. In those circumstances it would be understandable to live by the maxim ‘above all, do not get fired’.

  Within the United Nations the one way to guarantee that you don’t get fired is to do nothing wrong. The easiest way to do nothing wrong, is to do nothing. Many who have worked in bureaucracies would recognise this trait and understand that the one thing people who do very little, know how to do well is to block other people from doing work that highlights their own inactivity.

  The human resources system of the United Nations does not promote innovative risk-taking. To take innovative risks would be to accept occasional failure. If the cost of failure is the cost of your child’s education and your family’s livelihood, you can understand why for many people, that risk is simply too high. By serving time, people make their way higher up the ranks of the system. One can understand why the last thing a supervisor wants is a subordinate who wants to change things. Energetic, dashing young people embarrass lethargic bosses.

  I don’t criticise any individual from the developing world in making the decision to do very little once they have a job in the United Nations. Logic would dictate a safe course of action within the system. For many without alternative options the risk of losing a job is too high. However, I wouldn’t excuse those from the developed world as the same dynamic does not apply to them.

  This attitude permeates the whole system. The double standards, the perverse incentives all work against an effective delivery of humanitarian and development aid. It is this system that needs to be changed. But it is a system that is incapable of significant change.

  I was disappointed by many of the development workers within UNDP. I had little faith in people in the ‘development’ side of the aid world. Conversely I found many in UNHCR to be highly dedicated and courageous people. There are a small number of ‘desk warmers’ in UNHCR, for the same reasons as in UNDP, but the emergency response teams of UNHCR are full of incredible people. By now the reader might be coming to the conclusion that the United Nations system is a lot more complicated and a long less synergistic that one would have expected or hoped. For me, the bureaucracy was my greatest source of frustration: I came to the UN wanting The West Wing, but what I got was Yes Minister.

   11.

  Does Aid Have to be ‘Not For Profit’? Could the Private Sector be the Way Forward?

  I

  s it right to call for the doubling of foreign aid? Should we instead ask to double its effectiveness? Over the years, I became more senior within the United Nations system, yet it was almost as if each step upwards made me more aware of the lack of macro-level effectiveness and efficiency of the overall system of aid and development. The UN’s lack of response to the situation in Mindanao was particularly grating. It is also ironic that the major reason the Pakistan earthquake response worked so well was because of authority, command and control of military dictatorship of the Pakistan Army and not the UN.

  When one works in the aid world it is natural to want to see the results of how largely Western intervention could lift the world out of poverty. One finds that the world of aid is a complex one. Aid should be focused on people, but often it is more about the bureaucracy and money than it is about delivering aid to the people who need it. The measure of success in aid should not be how much money is spent or how honourably we try, rather we should be measured by how honourably we succeed.

  Exploring Private Sector Options If Pakistan was a career high, The Philippines was the low that made me really ask the question: Is aid effective? What could possibly be an alternative? Was the public sector the best place to fulfil a strategy to do good? Could more be achieved through a well-meaning private-sector company than through the bureaucratic public-sector system? Did such a company exist?

  For the last decade or so, some of the largest corporations have, contrary to what the public might believe, made incredible differences to some of the most impoverished communities. For example, mining giant BHP Billiton has introduced an anti-malaria program in Mozal, Mozambique. The effect of this program has reduced adult malaria infection in the community around their aluminium smelter from approximately 92 per cent of the population to 5.6 per cent. And why did they do this? Two reasons. Firstly: it’s the right thing to do. Secondly, the reduction in malaria infection has reduced absenteeism in their workforce. This, in turn, makes the company’s assets more profitable. The success represents a clear link between community improvement and corporate improvement.

  Many may think that BHP Billiton is motivated to conduct the antimalaria program because it affects their profitability, and that this is proof of corporate bad-will, but I disagree. The ideal is to find a mechanism to deliver aid that is in the interests of both the community and the corporation, while guaranteeing the long-term sustainability of the anti-malaria program. A philanthropic mind-set is not enough. Corporate philanthropy depends on on-going goodwill and good economic circumstances. Understanding the benefits to business in improving community health doesn’t need convincing philanthropic arguments or good economic circumstances, it needs an awareness that programs can be done in both the best interests of communities and companies.

  Michael Porter and Mark Kramer from Harvard Business School coined a term ‘shared value’ to encompass operating models like that of BHP Billiton in Mozal. The theory of shared value hypothesises that companies not only can, but should, seek out those circumstances in which community good and corporate good can be achieved from the same events. Rather than hiding from the link with profit, Porter and Kramer surmised that the link with profit is a good thing that should be celebrated.

  In the early 1990s there was no ‘shared value’ in Mozal in Mozambique. By 2009 there was. Clearly the landscape of the private sector is changing. More options exist now for those who want to ‘do good’ than existed at the time I went into
aid.

  As faith in the public sector decreases, a growing belief, based on research and evidence that a well-meaning private-sector intervention could work in true partnership with the public sector, may be the better way to bring many people out of poverty in the most equitable way possible. Hollywood stars such as Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt are well known for their calls for the world to double foreign aid. Yet if foreign aid is ineffective, surely doubling the aid won’t change things? But what is the alternative? Should the private sector replace foreign aid as the largest catalyst to bring the world out of poverty? Is the premise wrong from the start? Is foreign aid even a big player in bringing the world out of poverty anyway?

  When looking at the macro level, just over half of all the capital flowing from Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) countries to the developing world comes from the private sector, a third comes from foreign workers’ remittances (sending money back home), and the rest comes through aid.

  Aid is actually the smaller player. The larger player is the collective flow of capital through the private sector. If we want to bring the world out of poverty, and we think funding plays a part, then why focus only on aid, which makes up only 17 per cent of capital flows.

  Surely any effective and efficient attempt to help develop an economy, make it more resilient to disasters and to bring their people out of poverty, must be done in partnership between the private sector, remittances and official development assistance through aid?

  Perhaps we should be calling for better collaboration and knowledgesharing rather than a doubling of foreign aid?

  A great friend of mine who has influenced me is Brian Kelly. We met in Pakistan when he ran the IOM operation there. Brian is from Connecticut in the United States. He is married to a Japanese woman and has two small children who learned Urdu, the national language of Pakistan, before either English or Japanese. They are destined to become children that see the whole world as home.