Tag Archives india

Rain or shine, the gig must go on – Platform workers navigate climate extremes

                                     Image by Unsplash

‘Our economic system and our planetary system are now at war. Or, more accurately, our economy is at war with many forms of life on earth, including human life. What the climate needs to avoid collapse is a contraction in humanity’s use of resources; what our economic model demands to avoid collapse is unfettered expansion. Only one of these sets of rules can be changed, and it’s not the laws of nature.’ Naomi Klein (This changes everything: Capitalism vs. the climate).

Most parts of India suffered from extreme weather conditions this year. While the temperatures soared up to 50℃ in some cities, the monsoons that followed caused extreme havoc in others. The United Nations Economic and Social Commission for Asia and the Pacific (UNESCAP) report  predicts that India will lose 5.8 per cent of its working hours by 2030 due to extreme heat. What does this mean for a gig worker, for most of whom the city is their workspace, and for whom navigating the city constitutes a substantial part of their everyday life?

App based platforms have revolutionized the way urban dwellers travel, eat and purchase. While the gig economy has created numerous flexible jobs, it is also criticised for not effectively dealing with various issues such as workers’ wellbeing and social protection.

Flexible workers are not equipped to be flexible to the changing environment. In current research and policy discourses on gig work, the impact of climate change on the worker is often overlooked. While climate change has significant consequences to both their lives and livelihoods, it is only one among the many vulnerabilities they face. Gig workers already suffer from casualised, low-paid working conditions without access to long-term security, formal social protections and welfare. The pressure caused by these precarious conditions is further exemplified by extreme weather events. Beyond the immediate physical dangers posed by heatwaves or flash floods, these conditions increase the susceptibility of road accidents, thereby heightening the risk of traffic-related injuries.

As research has shown, in the gig economy, climate change is poised to act as a ‘wicked multiplier’ intensifying the vulnerabilities experienced by workers in developing countries. Gig workers in these countries are exposed to extreme weather conditions and endure long hours while navigating hazardous roads and traffic during heatwaves, storms, and floods. Those using two-wheelers to get around face additional challenges such as dust inhalation, impaired vision due to harsh sunlight, heatstroke, and the lack of shade on the roads. These conditions, along with algorithmic management and the promise of ‘lightning fast’ services, make gig workers vulnerable to exhaustion, dehydration, and severe health risks. That their earnings are dependent on the satisfactory execution of the gig exacerbates the precariousness of their situation.

Amidst this crisis, the responses from app-based companies are noteworthy. A prominent Indian food delivery platform issued the following statement: ‘please avoid ordering during peak afternoon unless absolutely necessary’. Yet in the platform economy, lower order volumes correspondingly diminish workers’ earnings. So, this seemingly well-intentioned request to customers aimed at reducing the delivery workers’ exposure to the intense afternoon heat, neglects the dilemma the workers face between making viable earnings and risking their immediate and long-term health. Another example is of a ride-hailing platform that introduced a ‘weather fee’ in Vietnam, which imposed an extra charge on an order whenever the local temperature hit 35℃. This was counter-intuitive, as it incentivized the already precarious worker to work extra hours regardless of the weather conditions, thus putting their lives at risk.

A common misconception is that extreme environmental situations affect only two -wheel drivers. Beyond the physical discomfort to themselves, even auto and taxi drivers face additional challenges of managing customer expectations and interactions on topics that are related to climate change.  For example, a common conflict between drivers and customers, especially during warm day-time hours is the driver’s reluctance to switch on the air conditioning, fearing higher fuel consumption. An Uber driver in Mumbai shares his experiences and strategy in coping with climate change:

”I don’t want to turn on the air conditioner in my car throughout the day. All the money I make goes on fuel charges. Over time, I realised that during the summer the best I can do is drive only during the night. The customers usually don’t insist on travelling with the AC on at night. Of course, I lose sleep and it affects my health. But I don’t have any other choice”. (Fieldnotes, Mumbai 2023).

Apart from highlighting the precarious nature of the work, these cases illustrate the importance of engaging all key stakeholders when developing solutions. Specifically, they emphasize the need to recognise the gig worker as an important stakeholder in the gig economy. They make clear that addressing climate challenges in the platform economy requires a collaborative effort from companies, workers, and the government.

App based platforms were once considered part of the sharing economy and hailed as harbingers of sustainability and collaborative consumption. However, with rapid expansion, they are now criticized for their significant environmental and social costs and for increasing road congestion and intensity.

Conversely, emerging research highlights the potential of platforms to be part of the solution, positioning them as essential stakeholders in sustainability efforts, emphasizing the need for collaborative approaches that integrate labour rights and climate justice. Platform companies have the best of technology and resources at their disposal to craft solutions that benefit their customers, workers and investors alike. For this, they need to view all stakeholders as equally important, create avenues for dialogue between them and work with them to incrementally build equitable solutions for both people and the planet.

Bibliography

  1. Economic survey of Asia. (1991). Economic and Social Survey of Asia and the Pacific. Economic and Social Commission for Asia and the Pacific. https://www.unescap.org/kp/2024/survey2024
  2. Vu, A. N., & Nguyen, D. L. (2024). The gig economy: The precariat in a climate precarious world. World Development Perspectives34, 100596. https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S245229292400033X
  3. https://x.com/zomato/status/1797179156528005204
  4. Dwivedi, Y. K., Hughes, L., Kar, A. K., Baabdullah, A. M., Grover, P., Abbas, R., … & Wade, M. (2022). Climate change and COP26: Are digital technologies and information management part of the problem or the solution? An editorial reflection and call to action. International Journal of Information Management63, 102456. https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0268401221001493

Opinions expressed in Bliss posts reflect solely the views of the author of the post in question.

                       About the Author:
                                Anna Elias

Anna Elias is a PhD researcher at International Institute of Social Studies (ISS), Erasmus University Rotterdam. Her research explores socio economic transitions brought about by digitisation, particularly its effect on livelihoods in the informal economy. With a strong professional background in the social impact sector, her expertise lies at the intersection of evidence-based research and evaluation, digital innovation, and sustainability.

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Delhi Diaries: The Dystopian Reality of India’s slide into Fascism

India’s mammoth general election has started — a process lasting several weeks as nearly one billion people cast their votes. Sophia Miller recently visited India, witnessing both excitement and fear in the run-up to the election as Indians ponder a possible third term of Prime Minister Narendra Modi and of the Hindu nationalist ideology (Hindutva) he furthers. What will another term of an increasingly fascist government mean for India and especially for its Muslim minority?

Hindu-nationalism is coloring the city of Delhi in shades of orange

During my last days in Delhi the city is being draped in orange. The flags are flying from garlands criss-crossing busy market streets and narrow alleys, from almost all shops, from every lamppost along the slow-moving traffic lanes, from cars, from auto rickshaws, even from bicycles whose underdressed owners are shivering their way through the exceptionally cold winter days of late January. On the edge of the roads, vendors with handcarts sell the neon-coloured flags displaying the god Ram and an endless repetition of Jai Sri Ram, Jai Sri Ram, the background soundtrack to the temple inauguration that for weeks has seen large swathes of the population high on Hindu-nationalism.

The as yet unfinished Ram Mandir (temple of Ram) in Ayodhya is being built on the ruins of the Babri Masjid, a mosque that was destroyed by right wing fanatics in 1992. They claim that the mosque was built at the birthplace of the Hindu God Ram and accept the 2000 people that died in the ensuing violence – most of them Muslim – as a fair price to pay for clearing the area. After almost three decades of legal and political battles, the Indian Supreme Court ruled in 2019 that a temple should be constructed on the land. The judgment more than anything else reflected the decay of the Indian judiciary – the executive by then had long stopped even pretending it follows the secularism enshrined in the Indian Constitution. To quote Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s words from the temple inauguration ceremony: “Ram is the faith of India, Ram is the foundation of India. Ram is the idea of India, Ram is the law of India”. Defying Hindu tradition and angering more than a few senior priests, Modi chose to place statues of gods and perform the consecration rituals before the temple’s construction was completed, determined to milk the issue to the last drop in his bid for re-election in the general parliamentary elections in spring this year.

In the last general election in 2019, 37% of voters gave their vote to Modi’s party BJP, but with India’s first-past-the-post system this translated into a landslide victory of 56% of seats in parliament. With the state institutions firmly in his hand, the opposition bogged down with in-fighting or jailed, and any notion of an independent media gone for good, some polls predict Modi might score up to 10 percentage points more this time around.

“You shouldn’t have invested all that money into the house,” says Mahi* matter-of-factly, pointing to the air conditioner that’s proudly attached to the raw brick walls of the single room that forms Nadiya’s home. “The elections are coming, they will tear down your house and all the money will be lost. What’s the use?”

I have to blink, blink again, and stop for a moment. The year is 2024, the country India, and this is a normal Tuesday afternoon conversation between two of my friends. Welcome to Modi’s Amrit Kaal, the golden era that will supposedly see the country transform bottom-up.

Nadiya lives in a predominantly Muslim, informal and low-income neighbourhood not far from a busy metro station in South Delhi. There is a dispute as to whose land the houses are built upon. The state claims it belongs to the archaeological survey of India while the residents, some of whom have lived there for more than 30 years, who have seen children born, marry, and in turn give birth, claim it for themselves. In 1995, the government demolished the neighbourhood. The residents rebuilt their houses brick by brick, just to see them demolished again in 2012, and then once more in December 2022, with hundreds of families becoming homeless overnight each time. It was due to mere luck that Nadiya’s house was left standing this time around, and there is no way of knowing when the bulldozers will come back. While these demolition drives are not a unique feature of Modi’s government, they have intensified under his rule and are usually conducted in poor and/or Muslim neighbourhoods, often following rallies of the Hindu far right. They are indeed common enough to have earned themselves the nickname ‘bulldozer politics’.

 

People in the ruins of their homes in South Delhi, 2012.  Source: Author

Born into an impoverished family with 6 children, Nadiya has worked herself through government schools and universities to complete an MA in Hindi, has learned sewing, parlouring and other marketable skills in free courses along the way, and has amassed years of work experience as a teacher in underpaid NGO jobs. Now, having to look after her own son, she tutors children at her home, often teaching 30 pupils at once in a room that can’t be larger than 10 square metres. Working 8 hours a day, 6 days a week, she earns a few thousand rupees per month which she combines with the 12,000 rupees (roughly 130 Euros) her husband makes.

“Where would I go?” Nadiya asks when Mahi brings up the bulldozers again. “I can’t afford to move anywhere else. Plus, I grew up here, my whole family lives here, my son’s school is in walking distance. Tell me, where else should I go?”

Hindu nationalist ideology, or Hindutva, is built on Brahminism and propagates a type of Hinduism that is not representative of the incredibly diverse belief system practiced by Hindus across the Indian subcontinent. The BJP wants people to forget that Hinduism was never a unified religion but rather a collection of beliefs, rituals, and practices, the most unifying characteristic of which was for a long time that they neither fell under Buddhism, Islam, Jainism, Christianity nor any of the many other religions practiced in the region.

Hindutva followers stand against this diversity. They antagonise lower castes, tribes, Christians, the broader political Left, disapprove of sexual self-determination and women’s freedom, but most important of all, they hate Muslims. In the eyes of Hindutva supporters, Muslims should accept their place as second-class citizens, or, as a popular slang says, go to Pakistan.

The skyline with mosques and temples in the south of Delhi. Source: Author

Attending an urban upper-middle class wedding, it is almost possible to forget all these politics. The discussions centre on who is wearing what, how the bride and groom are looking, and what desserts are being served. Then an older man starts a conversation with me, a wealthy upper caste Hindu with an impressive moustache that seems to grow longer the more the talk drags on. When I mention that I come from Germany, he enthusiastically starts telling me about a box of knives he got as a gift from a German friend a few years ago. “They’re so sharp,” he says in Hindi, chuckling, “they don’t just cut vegetables – they could even cut a katua.”

Later, I learn that katua is a derogatory slang for Muslim men who have been circumcised. I also learn that the older man alone bought 1000 orange flags to decorate his exclusively upper caste Hindu colony for the Ram Mandir inauguration.

Among the 2019/20 protesters against the Islamophobic Citizenship Amendment Act, a law which would see fast-track citizenship granted to applicants from all major religions except for Islam, and which could contribute to stripping Muslims of their citizenship, there was a white student with a sign that read “I’m from Germany, your grandchildren will be very pissed at you.”

I think about it often these days. So many things I see in India are achingly familiar from what I studied at school, and sometimes I want to scream out of sheer frustration at how glaringly obvious it is that history is repeating itself.

I think of Berlin’s streets clad in swastika flags; of people boycotting Jewish shops the same way some Indians I know are now boycotting Muslim street vendors or maids; of laws banning kosher food or halal meat, restricting inter-religious marriage; of the prosecution of journalists, the imprisonment of political dissidents, the limitless surveillance of all citizens to make sure nobody will be able to escape; of the government forging and forcing a national uniformity on a territory that for the longest time was not one nation but the collection of various kingdoms in geographical proximity; of paramilitary ground forces like the SS marching in the street. Much like in Germany, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), the Hindu nationalists’ volunteer paramilitary organisation with more than 5 million members, has been practicing for indoctrination and pogroms. The RSS has dedicated branches for women and children and runs India’s largest school network. The second chief of the 100-year old organisation openly admired Hitler and asserted that India should treat her minorities the same way the Nazis treated the Jews. Looking at the country now, it seems there isn’t a long way left to go for his wish to finally come true.

I think of the government renaming Muslim cities, tearing down Muslim architecture, erasing Muslim contributions to history; of themrewriting the country’s history. I think of the fake news filling newspapers, TV channels, schoolbooks, WhatsApp chats. The lies, the endless lies. ‘We do this for the country. For the greater good. We do this for you’.

An Indian children’s book, published in 2016, that names Hitler as a great Leader among Barack Obama, Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, Narendra Modi and Aung San Suu Kyi. Source: Author

Is nobody else noticing? Does nobody else care? Nobody who matters, it seems, as countries and multinational companies keep doing business with India as if nothing is happening, exploiting its cheap wages, flexible environmental standards, and its government’s high demand for shiny new arms. It seems that nobody ever learns from history. (The Germans didn’t, for sure, or they wouldn’t be supporting Israel’s ongoing genocide in Palestine.)

Gaza has 2 million people, India maybe 200 million Muslims. Imagine: 100 times more spyware and arms to sell to a government that wants to get rid of them one way or another. In 2022 the Early Warning Project ranked India as the eighth most likely county in the world to see genocide. A recent poll found that almost half of all Indians said they were very much satisfied with Modi’s work. Sometimes I have nightmares of what they may do to Nadiya if they get the chance.

I don’t want to remember Delhi like that, draped in ugly neon orange, but the colour leaves an ugly aftertaste that doesn’t dissipate. Flying up and away through the layers of smog, I think of when I will return, and there is both yearning and fear in my heart.[/vc_column_text][vc_separator css=”.vc_custom_1713852542354{margin-top: -15px !important;margin-bottom: 10px !important;}”][vc_column_text]This article by Sophia Miller was originally published on http://www.tni.org under a Creative Commons Licence https://www.tni.org/en/article/delhi-diaries

A pseudonym was used in this article; the author’s identity is protected at her request due to the sensitive nature of the article.

Opinions expressed in Bliss posts reflect solely the views of the author of the post in question.

About the author:

Sophia Miller a project officer with The Transnational Institute’s War and Pacification programme.

 

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Development Dialogue 19 | Why we need alternatives to mainstream education — and how the ‘Nook’ model of learning can show us the way

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Contemporary education models continue to reflect and perpetuate colonial educational priorities and by virtue are intricately tied to goals of shaping ‘children as future adults’ and creating a ‘productive’ workforce through education. In the process, they exclude marginalised groups of people, denying them the opportunity to learn and thrive. Alternatives to mainstream education models have been sought all over the world and are gaining traction. In this blog article, Anoushka Gupta discusses ‘Nooks’, alternative community learning spaces that non-profit organisation Project DEFY has introduced in several Asian and African countries, and shows how they are transforming the way in which people approach learning.

Learners working on projects during the design phase. Source: Project DEFY.

Situating systemic challenges within mainstream education models

The outdatedness of several mainstream education models in their failure to enable individuals and communities to respond to emerging challenges have long been recognised. Yet, not much has been done in terms of questioning the foundational principles of these models and in finding enduring alternatives. Such alternatives are needed particularly in Asia and Africa, where several systemic challenges confront educational systems.

It is well known, for example, that the founding principles of schooling systems rest on the assumption that child development is a linear process — it is thereby assumed that a child of a particular age must learn certain skills and competencies before progressing further[1]. As a result, as children move through school, their worth is increasingly tied to their performance in standardized examinations, placing immense pressure on them to do well and limiting opportunities to explore interests or enjoy the process of learning. Metrics to understand what constitutes ‘success’ over the years (through assessment results or further educational trajectories) have standardised experiences and divorced education from its local context[2].

Moreover, differences in material wealth and social location play an important role in understanding variations in ‘success’ defined through assessment results. For example, Dalit and Adivasi communities in India who were historically excluded from economic resources and formal educational systems face challenges in meeting the uniform testing criteria, which puts them at a disadvantage in many disciplines and professions even today[3]. In Uganda, high rates of teenage pregnancy and associated stigma reproduce exclusion and drive girls to drop out[4].

These instances demonstrate that mainstream schooling is built on rigid eligibility rules and criteria for success that fail to secure an environment where learners feel safe and heard and where they can explore their interests instead of sticking to uniform curricula, often detached from their own realities. In the next section, I will show how the Nook learning model seeks to contend with such hegemonic education models and creates safe spaces in which learners can thrive without excessive pressure to perform.

Questioning why we learn

First conceptualised in 2016 by Abhijit Sinha, founder of the India-based non-profit organisation Project DEFY,[5]Nooks are physical community learning environments located in under-resourced places that are accessible to learners irrespective of their age, gender, marital status, and socio-economic background. These spaces are built on questioning the fundamental purpose of learning, which for mainstream models often is creating a productive workforce by teaching them standardised knowledge and skills instead of centring interest as the main driver of learning.

Sinha’s experiment started in a small village in Karnataka, India. Disillusioned with his own educational experiences in one of India’s top engineering colleges, he envisioned a space equipped with basic tools and without strict instructions or rules that would push learners to really explore their interests and would encourage resourcefulness, teamwork, and innovation. These spaces later expanded, went through several iterations, and became the ‘Nooks’ they are today. And they continue to be adapted to new conditions and the needs of learners and communities. Since 2016, 41 Nooks have been set up and 32 are currently operational through partnerships with local organisations across Uganda, Rwanda, Zimbabwe, India, and Bangladesh.

The freedom to choose how (and what) to learn

Nooks follow ‘self-designed learning’ as the pedagogical orientation where the core belief rests on learners defining and designing their own educational goals in an enabling environment. Each space is equipped with basic tools, raw materials, the internet, and laptops and has two fellows who act as mentors.

The Nook follows a cycle-based structure comprising four stages:

  1. Exploration — fellow-guided sessions that introduce learners to diverse learning areas (from robotics to art to storytelling).
  2. Goal Setting — the identification and articulation by learners of a specific learning goal based on their interesteither from areas in the exploration stage or something totally different, as well as their definition of the steps and resources required to translate the goal into a project.
  3. Design — the execution by learners of the project, which they spend approximately three to six months on (the length of the cycle differs depending on the Nook).
  4. Exhibition — the presentation of their work at an event known as an ‘external exhibition’, which is used as a platform for showcasing learner projects to community members and external stakeholders.

Conversations, reflections, and enjoyment

In each cycle, beyond working on projects, learners gather twice a day in opening and closing circles to discuss any troubles they have faced, be it related to their project or something that bothers them in general. Reflections during these designated discussion hours are meant to build a sense of community in the Nook. Many learners have chosen to take up problems in their community – for instance, learners are trying to tackle environmental pollution in the Barishal Nook in Bangladesh. This approach to learning allows individuals to share challenges without judgment and allows them to flexibly explore their interests without assessments or pressures of completion. It intends to recentre the role of learners’ agency and to foster an understanding of individuals as part of a larger collective.

An opening circle in one of the Nooks. Source: Project DEFY.

The Nooks have also had a wider impact. First, self-designed learning naturally implies that projects differ across and within Nooks. A common thread, however, is that learners tend to pick up problems they see in their surroundings or delve deeper into an area they were curious about. In the Bulawayo Nook in Zimbabwe, for example, a learner articulated his desire to build an artificial limb, explaining,Personally, I need it. I would also want to help other people in my community who are disabled once I achieve this goal. The cost of artificial legs is very expensive in the country so that is why I decided to make a cheaper and innovative one”.

Several learners also revealed that their goals challenged normative gendered ideas of learning and work. For instance, in the Gahanga Nook in Rwanda, a female learner spoke of how she intended to learn tailoring initially. However, with exposure to different areas, she discovered her interest in welding despite initial resistance from her family. With time and through encouragement from peers and fellows, she created a hanger and a garden chair, ultimately convincing her family to support her.

Lastly, Nooks foster a community identity. Before Nooks are set up, a community mapping exercise is carried out to understand how the space potentially adds value to the lives of community members. The eventual goal of each Nook is for learners to drive the concept independently. While Nooks are still young and learners running the Nook independently are yet to be located, several seeds of leadership from within Nooks have been sown. Beyond taking on day-to-day responsibilities, steering opening and closing circles, and mentoring fellow learners, the transition of several learners to Nook facilitator roles is encouraging.

Expanding the ‘idea’ behind and beyond Nooks — some final takeaways

Globally, enhancing access to schooling is hailed as a marker of development. Yet, the exclusion and disempowerment that are part of both the design and implications of such beliefs are rarely questioned. In contexts where disempowerment stems from wider socio-economic barriers that trickle down to schooling, Nooks demonstrate the value of learning spaces that allow flexibility to explore one’s interests without imposing restrictions on what to learn. In turn, the emphasis on contextual learning and engagement with community challenges as part of the learning journey seeks to upturn individualised notions of education.

Finally, while ‘community-led development’ is increasingly used as the go-to buzzword among development practitioners and donors, very few are truly willing to let go of predetermined criteria to measure the ‘output’ and ‘outcomes’ of education interventions. Truly recognising the agency of the learners and communities means first questioning our own metrics of what constitutes ‘success.’


This blog article draws on a recent working paper published by Project DEFY that can be accessed here


References:

[1] Prout, A. & James, A. (1997) ‘A New Paradigm for the Sociology of Childhood? Provenance, Promise and Problems’ in Prout, A. & James, A. (ed.) Constructing and Reconstructing Childhood: Contemporary Issues in the Sociological Study of Childhood. Second edition. London: Falmer Press. pp. 7-32.

[2] Ydesen, C. and Andreasen, K. (2020) “Historical roots of the global testing culture in education,” Nordic studies in Education, 40(2), pp. 149-166. DOI: 10.23865/nse.v40.2229

[3] See Ch2 ‘School Education and Exclusion’ in India Exclusion Report 2013-14. pp.44-75. Available at: IndiaExclusionReport2013-2014.pdf (idsn.org)

[4] Study-report-on-Linkages-between-Pregnancy-and-School-dropout.pdf (faweuganda.org)

[5] For more on Project DEFY, see https://hundred.org/en/innovations/project-defy-design-education-for-yourself


About the author:

Anoushka Gupta is a researcher based out of India. Her research interests include child and youth wellbeing, understanding social exclusion, and utilising participatory methods in community-based research. She has worked extensively with non-profit organisations primarily in India on educational quality and community-based learning models. She previously majored in Social Policy as part of the MA in Development Studies from the International Institute of Social Studies, Erasmus University Rotterdam and holds a Bachelor’s degree in History from St. Stephen’s College, University of Delhi.

Decolonial Paradoxes in India’s LGBTQ+ Rights: A Political Landscape

This article explores a noticeable change in the BJP’s (the right-wing party presently ruling India) stance on LGBTQ+ rights in India. It questions whether this shift is due to a change in their beliefs or if there are other reasons behind it. The summary highlights the conflicts within India’s political landscape regarding LGBTQ+ rights and examines the complexities and contradictions within the so-called decolonial narrative. The author Rupankar Dey aims to uncover the paradox between political motives and authentic decolonial aspirations in the discussion on LGBTQ+ rights in India.

The decriminalization of homosexuality in 2018 marked a pivotal shift in India’s social approach to LGBTQ+ rights. Despite the celebration of this milestone, the sudden embrace of LGBTQ+ rights by India’s ruling conservative Hindu nationalist party, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP, led by Indian PM Narendra Modhi), comes as quite a surprise. Historically known for taking a markedly different stance, this major political shift appears to signal a progressive, inclusive approach from the largest party in Indian politics. That the BJP has made this shift to a seemingly progressive stance (by a conservative-nationalist party) poses quite the decolonial paradox. To understand this paradox, the underlying motives, entangled in the broader political narrative, prompt a deeper inquiry.

At the core of this transformation is the BJP’s attempt to establish an image of a more progressive India, ostensibly shedding the colonial vestiges and reinstating an era of pre-colonial glory. As homosexuality was initially outlawed in India by the colonial British administration in 1861, this movement to create a ‘new India’ diverges from historical positions that were notably less accepting of LGBTQ+ rights.

The BJP’s political strategy aligns this liberal stance with the idea of a neoliberal Hindu nation, aiming to include or co-opt the queer community to further the party’s agenda. This political move is meant for saffron washing of Indian ancient history which seeks to bolster the Hindu community’s perception as inherently liberal and open-minded (Nation, 2022), while simultaneously dismissing the existence and influence of other cultures. The root of the issue stems from an attempt to rewrite historical narratives and recapture the purity of an imagined pre-colonial era. In doing so, this portrayal conveniently overlooks India’s rich cultural tapestry and the existence of various societal groups that form the country’s essence.

 

Changing historical narratives for political gain

This transformation seems to be a calculated political strategy that contrasts the diverse historical narrative of India. The BJP leverages religious texts and myths to manipulate the country’s tolerant past and ignore its pluralistic societal fabric. This narrative obfuscates the essence of India’s past and fails to acknowledge its inclusivity and diversity. This is done within the context of Hindu nationalism, with BJP administrations across India being responsible for (amongst other things), redeveloping historical Indian Muslim sites, downgrading the status of regional languages, and adopting laws that privilege Hindu dietary practices.

The political rhetoric deployed by the BJP attempts to decolonize India’s history and reclaim lost traditions, while disregarding the country’s heterogeneity and diversity. It’s a distortion of decolonial ideals through selective interpretation, crafting a new narrative that serves political interests more than genuine societal inclusivity – a decolonial paradox.

This discrepancy highlights the paradoxical nature of India’s changing LGBTQ+ rights within decolonial discourse. The narrative’s reshaping leans more towards political motives than genuine decolonial initiatives, catering to specific agendas while overlooking the broader picture of India’s cultural and social tapestry. Indeed, it could be claimed that the BJP’s embrace of decolonial narratives to further its own rule is, in itself, a colonial act.

In essence, the crux of the matter is an acknowledgment of the uniqueness of Indian society, accepting the diversity and individualities within its pluralistic framework. Within the context of India’s LGBTQ+ rights, genuine decoloniality should focus on embracing the intricate amalgamation of cultures and traditions, ensuring inclusivity without undermining the authenticity of each societal segment. Co-opting and operationalising selective historical narratives to paint a mono-cultural picture of a truly diverse country is anathema to the qualities that support decoloniality.



Reference:

Nation, L. (2022). What is pinkwashing? [online] LGBTQ Nation. Available at: https://www.lgbtqnation.com/2022/07/what-is-pinkwashing/ [Accessed 19 Dec. 2023].

Image Credit: Google Pictures.


Opinions expressed in Bliss posts reflect solely the views of the author of the post in question.

About the author:

Rupankar Dey, a gender advocate and researcher, holds a master’s degree from ISS and has dedicated his efforts to advancing reproductive health and sexualities for marginalized groups. His work with Lilliane Fonds in Uganda focused on enhancing accessibility to sexual and reproductive health for women with disabilities in the region.

 

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How upgrading the roles of Trade Unions can help to redress power imbalances – and not just between the worker and management

In this blog, Nandini Ramamurthy looks into how different worker empowerment techniques and organisations can benefit and redress power imbalances. Not only through the traditional power imbalances between an owner and worker, but also gender imbalances. Digital initiatives, in particular, can be used to counter gender-based discrimination and violence at work, including in the case of garment factory workers in Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, India.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio

Capital and labour are in antagonistic relationship because of the nature of the power embodied in them. For workers, the power comes from their sheer numbers, integral role in the production process, and participating in trade union and collective bargaining activities. Companies and the people that run them, on the other hand, derive their power from owning the means of production (whether in technology and fixed asset terms, or through employment contracts). A recent development that seeks to further empower companies and owners is dismantling trade unions and removing their power of collective bargaining, and replacing it with workers committees – which are non-binding and do not have official power. In the era of economic globalisation, these practices are becoming more and more common.

The main argument of this blog is to highlight how workers are addressing their precarious situation in the digital realm (online). Airing grievances and highlighting injustices online means that a worker can be anonymous: so they do not need to fear reprisals from management. Digitalisation is particularly useful in supporting victims of sexual and verbal abuses, especially women. Therefore, this blog aims to further highlight how upgrading trade unions roles and expanding collective bargaining is relevant for gender studies in understanding inequalities and power imbalances.

The gendered perspective of trade unions is understood by examining union bargaining agendas for gender, and looking into the women’s roles and their leadership. Co-operative and self-help groups are described as alternate forms of trade unions (Sundar 2007). In this model, the purpose of trade unionism is about building on social unionism. A report by the Indian Committee of the Netherlands (ICN) highlights that the state of Karnataka has about 1,200 factories, employing about 5,00,000 workers and that 80 percent of them are women. The Tiruppur Export Association (TEA) suggest that there are 8,300 factories employing more than 1,500,000 workers, of which about85 percent are women. Typically, women’s wages, working conditions, including in trade unions and use of collective bargaining are inferior. It is apparent that the traditional approaches of trade union and collective bargaining are not bringing any significant changes in integrating women workers into the mainstream labour market institutions.  One way to ameliorate the situation could be using more digital tools.

To write this blog, I have used a digital ethnography as the research method. Gram Vanni and 90.4 Radio Active are the two radio stations used as sources. The 90.4 Radio Active station uses Behind the Label program, while Gram Vanni engages through Namma Kural, Tholilalargalin Kural, Urimai Kural and Vandu Murugan. These shows/podcasts are popular amongst and aimed towards garment workers.

Looking more closely at the cases of Tiruppur and Bengaluru, it is clear that the range of people taking part in labour markets in the two states (migrant workers, local workers, male and female workers, child labour, and workers with varying shades of socio-economic and demographic features), makes it difficult to make generalised statements. So, given this context, this blog narrates the experiences of workers that are exposed to digital methods for raising grievances, taking part in collective bargaining, and getting representation from a union. This is the voice of a female garment worker Geeta Bhonsle from Bengaluru. The worker deliberated on supervisor’s behaviour when asked for a 5 minutes break “…. the supervisor said this is workplace and not Dharmashala”. Vasantha, a garment worker from Bengaluru discussed about the dourjanya (forceful) working conditions. Latha and Vijaya complained about disrespecting women bodies within and outside the factory site and on safety issues during night duty. Savithriamma discussed the problems she faced despite having an ESI (insurance) facility “… it resulted in loss of workdays and ended up paying more money on diagnosis and medical treatments”. Muddu Raj a male garment worker elucidated his discontent when management applied discriminatory practices at workplaces.

In the case of Tiruppur, Vijayalakshmi explained that through using digital platforms, workers do not get into unnecessary saitchchavaravu (controversy) “…. the management has no idea which worker is on the other side”. Even though there is suspicion the workers are free from allegation of participating in trade union activities. Deepa said that on a digital faceless platform she has the courage to speak about kattupadu illatha kodimiyana thakudhal (atrocities). Moreover, the workers can freely discuss ‘forbidden’ subjects such as mental health, work pressure, sexual favours, maternity issues and mensuration related problems. Another innovative digital technique comes from the Gram Vanni podcast, which hosts Vandu Murugan: a drama show on labour welfare issues. At the end of the show, the presenter asks questions on labour-related issues, and rewards workers for correct answers. Workers also call IVR to record violations and grievances, and Gram Vanni then helps them to connect with trade unions or legal assistance. Sathya, a female worker, benefited from such interactions.

Digitalisation and using digital tools and techniques increases the rate of mobilisation and solidarity among workers because it can minimise discrimination and provide a place for people to express their grievances. Furthermore, digital spaces can transcend borders, break cultural barriers, and build collective strength and network. With the help of the digital realm,  we can collect information globally, and use it to challenge the powers held by buyers and suppliers in the global production system. It provides opportunity for workers with repressed voices especially when trade union and collective bargaining is beyond their reach. From the discussions mentioned above, it is evident that digital tools and spaces have rekindled the interest of solidarity.


Reference 
Sundar, Shyam K.R. (2007). Trade Unions And Civil Society: Issues and Strategies. Indian Journal of Industrial Relations, Vol. 42(4), pp. 713-734.

Opinions expressed in Bliss posts reflect solely the views of the author of the post in question.

About the author:

Nandini Ramamurthy holds a PhD degree from Tata Institute of Social Sciences (TISS). Her doctoral work focused on understanding governance, work and value share of local clusters in global production system, Tamil Nadu, India. Currently, she is working on ‘Odisha Migration Study’ project as a Senior Research Associate at Indian Institute of Technology, Hyderabad. Some of her research interests are migration and development, work and employment, trade union and role of digital tools in bringing solidarity among garment and textile workers. She has more than 10 years of industry experience in Micro Finance and MSME sectors, and specializes in digital financing.

 

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Knowledge is power: how ‘infomediaries’ are helping marginalized communities in Bangladesh claim access to information

South Asian countries have made remarkable progress in adopting laws that provide citizens with the right to information. Yet in many instances, information still cannot be accessed, or differentiated access to information can be observed. ‘Infomediaries’ introduced in Bangladesh through a community empowerment programme have played an essential role in helping marginalized people access information by mediating between communities as information seekers and local governments as information providers. Such actors may assist marginalized communities in South Asia and beyond in claiming their right to information, writes Sujoy Dutta.

Legislation guaranteeing access to information has been globally recognized as a fundamental human right. Such legislation can empower citizens in urban and rural spaces, including women, by allowing them unrestricted access to information. This helps to promote transparency and accountability, for example by facilitating the review of government policies and programmes to prevent the misuse of government resources by officials.

However, the implementation of such acts does not always take place in ways that benefit all citizens equally. Studies indicate that merely creating a legal space is not enough to ensure that poor people can access information. Neuman and Calland argue that ensuring citizens’ right to information is a three-phased process that involves the introduction of law, its implementation, and, finally, its enactment. All the elements of this ‘transparency triangle’ are crucial and interrelated; however, the implementation phase is of paramount importance and serves as the base of the triangle.

In South Asian countries, the enactment of such laws occurred in the wake of political reform and the deepening of democracy. Pakistan was the first country to introduce a Right of Access to Information Act in 2002, followed by India (in 2005), Nepal (in 2007) and Bangladesh (in 2009). All these countries introduced this law after years of lobbying by civil society groups. While the laws are key for holding governments accountable, their use by poor communities in this region remains restricted.

 

What’s happening in India?

India’s Right To Information Act is considered to be one of the most robust laws in South Asia, yet it remains untapped by the poor and marginalized communities, who have limited means of access. In five Indian states (Goa, Tamil Nadu, Maharashtra, Karnataka and Delhi), citizens are more likely to access this law, as requests for information prompt officials to act “almost like magic”. This is because, once an application for accessing information has been submitted, the government is expected to produce results.

But in states that are considered less progressive, like Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, where incomes and literacy rates are lower and corruption is rampant due to poor governance, awareness this law is limited. In these states, government officials undermine transparency norms, refuse to provide the requested information, and reject appeals to access information on spurious grounds. These practices mock transparency laws, as the poor have a hard time dealing with inflexible bureaucratic officials and procedures.

Experiences from Mexico suggest that expanding the use of right to information to disadvantaged communities requires trustworthy intermediaries. In many countries, this role has been entrusted to NGOs, as well as community and youth groups, who enable the poor to submit their information requests without delay. This helps everyone not only to access information, but also to interrogate anti-democratic practices. A community empowerment programme of Bangladesh has shown how intermediaries can make an impact. Such configurations can be replicated in parts of South Asia and in other parts of the world where information has not reached disadvantaged sections of the population.

 

How ‘infomediaries’ are helping marginalized people

India’s more restrictive states could take cues from the Community Empowerment Programme (CEP) of Bangladesh. Introduced in 2011 and supported by the World Bank and the Bangladesh Rural Advancement Committee (BRAC), the programme is empowering the poor (especially women) to overcome difficulties they face while obtaining information. The activities of the programme include the identification, training, and assignment of ‘informediaries’– a cadre of information intermediaries who have a basic understanding of the law and are chosen from within the community to motivate villagers to access information. These informediaries hold information clinics aimed at developing better-informed citizens as they link the marginalized sections with state machinery.

In Bangladesh, these informediaries were selected from Polli Samaj, a popular theatre group who are accepted by villagers. Their role is to gather information queries from the community and submit applications of right to information to the relevant government or NGO offices on their behalf. When answers to the relevant information are received, they are passed on to the applicants.

Based on their popularity, these infomediaries are able to establish a close rapport with public officials through their repeated visits. This allows them access to information with relatively greater success. In many instances, they have been effective in assisting marginalized groups (including women) to access information by overcoming multiple barriers. These include communication, infrastructure, and unpaved roads and inadequate public transportation systems that have made it difficult and time-consuming for the women to travel to lodge their application for information.

However, if this concept is to be implemented in India’s less prosperous states, it has to move a step forward by ensuring that all marginalized groups have access to public offices. Infomediaries should also motivate women to demand information. This will eventually enable these groups to access information without the help of infomediaries.

Opinions expressed in Bliss posts reflect solely the views of the author of the post in question.

About the author:

Sujoy Dutta teaches at Tata Institute of Social Sciences in India. His research publications integrate disciplinary tools from political economy, sociology, and public policy, much of which is based on fieldwork-based empirical analysis (in Uttar Pradesh, Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, and some parts of Maharashtra, India). He holds a doctorate degree from the National University of Singapore and a Master’s degree from the ISS. Currently, he is undertaking extensive fieldwork in India and Bangladesh to examine the impact of the Right to Information Act on poor households.

 

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Beware of calls to ‘rescue’ India’s ‘Covid orphans’

News reports of children being orphaned by Covid-19 deaths in India raise the spectre of a generation of children without adequate parental care. But international responses that favour solutions like building orphanages and seeking adoption for these children are misguided and can lead to child exploitation. In this post, Kristen Cheney explains why, and how you can better support children orphaned during the pandemic.

Photo: Charu Chaturvedi
(Unsplash)

A year ago, my colleagues and I were already forewarning of calls to ‘rescue’ ‘Covid orphans’. As care reform advocates, we are familiar with the pattern: after every disaster—natural or manmade, instant (‘Haitian earthquake orphans’) or slow-burn (‘AIDS orphans’)—media coverage laments the situation of children left without parental care. So when Covid-19 was declared a global pandemic last year, we worried—not so much about whether as about when we would start to see calls for assistance to these orphans. It has taken a while, but now, with the horrible escalation of Covid-19 in India, these stories are starting to emerge.

Children’s advocates worry because these calls tend to take the form of ‘orphan rescue’ narratives, which usually spur desires to go to the children and build massive orphanages, as well as demands for international adoption. And yet we have known for decades that these responses, though well-meaning, are at best deeply flawed and counter to children’s overall wellbeing. Over half a century of child development research has documented the deleterious effects of institutionalisation and risks in international adoption, prompting the United Nations to adopt the Alternative Care Guidelines, which call for institutionalisation and international adoption as last resorts, favouring instead family-based care solutions.

Orphans don’t need ‘rescuing’; they need protection

At worst, ‘orphan rescue’ narratives have spurred corruption and exploitation of children, prompting perverse incentives to traffic children into institutions and even international adoptions for profit. In fact, this has profit motive been so prevalent that I have been tracking its development in what I call the global Orphan Industrial Complex.

While children are indeed losing their parents at alarming rates to Covid-19 in India, that doesn’t mean that foreigners should rush in to build orphanages or seek to adopt orphans. Care reform advocates like myself have long argued that not only are these solutions bad for children; with these good intentions inevitably comes an element of criminality. Under such circumstances, the Orphan Industrial Complex has a way of swooping in and commodifying such children, leading to exploitation (of donors and ‘orphans’ alike as ‘fake’ orphanages pop up to raise funds that line the pockets of traffickers), increasing corruption as people seeking to adopt search for loopholes to legal and child safeguarding measures, and even child trafficking into orphanages and adoption.

A recent BBC article pointed to such early warning signs occurring in India: a grandmother caring for her grandchildren orphaned by Covid-19 is quoted as saying, “A lot of people are coming to ask for adoption [of her grandchildren],” suggesting that the vultures are already descending.

Support for families of orphans and doing away with orphanages

Yet, the Indian government and NGOs have been working for many years on strengthening their child protection and alternative care policies to prevent such exploitation of ‘orphans’. For example, for the past five years, India has been working on shutting down orphanages while also strengthening their child protection systems to better prevent children’s separation from their families in the first place. Continued external support to orphanages only undermines such efforts.

When Covid-19 cases in India started spiking in April, however, so did the number of children left without parental care. Reports started rolling off the press, sometimes detailing the danger of exploitation of those children by unscrupulous traffickers hoping to take advantage of their vulnerabilities. In response, Indian advocates started posting informational memes on social media that detail legal and social advice about ‘what to do with Covid orphans’ [Fig 1]. NGOs have helped set up community helpdesks and outreach programmes to identify and assist families’ access to government schemes, medical facilities, and PPE distribution. To prevent a massive institutionalisation of children left behind, the Prime Minister’s Office declared a support and empowerment program for children affected by the pandemic that includes free education, free health insurance, and a monthly stipend for youth from 18 to 23 years old [Fig 2]. This is a commendable effort that will provide support to extended families to care for children without drastically uprooting them from all that they know. After all, the loss of one or both parents is already hard enough to deal with.

Reinvesting in communities

Whenever I warn people of the Orphan Industrial Complex and its perpetuation of inappropriate charitable responses to orphanhood, they often ask where they should direct their assistance instead. One thing that advocates have lamented is that it is so much easier to raise money for harmful orphanages or adoptions than it is to raise money for child protection and family preservation efforts. Yet we know that these are in the best interests of children.

So, I encourage people to support care reforms that keep children in families or family-based care whenever possible. This ensures children’s rights to family, community life, name, nation, and identity (as enshrined in the Convention on the Rights of the Child); families are where children grow best. But we also need to build the capacities of these systems by, for example, training social workers and supporting communities with services like education, health, and parenting support to help them to take care of their own children.

Finally, we can urge our friends, families, and governments to divest from orphanages (after all, there is a reason why we no longer have orphanages in Europe and North America; why do we consider warehousing children in institutions an appropriate response to crises abroad??) and support moratoria on international adoption such as that recently issued by the Dutch government.

Instead, now is the time to reinvest in communities, such as those in India that bear the burden of the Covid pandemic and lockdowns. We can strengthen them to enact proven care reforms that allow children—even those who find themselves in adverse circumstances like India’s new ‘Covid orphans’—to flourish.

Opinions do not necessarily reflect the views of the ISS or members of the Bliss team.

About the author:

Kristen Cheney is Associate Professor of Children and Youth Studies at ISS. She is author of Crying for Our Elders: African Orphanhood in the Age of HIV and AIDS (2017) and co-editor of the volume, Disadvantaged Childhoods and Humanitarian Intervention: Processes of Affective Commodification and Objectification (2019).

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COVID-19 and Conflict | Why virtual sex work hasn’t helped sex workers in India survive the COVID-19 lockdown

Virtual sex work, although around for many years, has become an alternative to traditional sex work during the global COVID-19 pandemic. In India, like elsewhere, sex workers due to a strict lockdown and the limiting of their movements have turned to virtual sex work to earn a living. Yet it has not become a viable solution for many due to a number of challenges the workers face when resorting to this type of sex work, write Birendra Singh and Chitrakshi Vashisht.

“Sex workers” by mo’s is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

 

By the end of 2020, around ten million people in India had been infected with COVID-19. Only the United States has recorded a higher number of infections. To mitigate the crisis, the Government of India instituted a lockdown, forcing its over 1.4 billion residents to stay at home. Among the many affected by strict lockdown measures are sex workers, who became a high-risk group during the pandemic due to the nature of their work that requires physical interaction.

Conservative estimates suggest that there are around 38,000 sex workers in the city of Delhi alone, of whom many are residential sex workers working from their small and congested houses (also the case for brothels). This poses a twofold challenge for them during the pandemic: a heightened individual risk of contracting a COVID-19 infection and lack of any other source of income to support themselves and their families in a time when the economy came to a virtual halt.

In light of this precarious situation, and as part of the ISS’s concluding ‘When Disaster Meets Conflict’ (Discord) project, we conducted a small study with sex workers in Delhi, including with female sex workers (FSW – cisgender women), transgender (trans) women, and hijras (a socio-cultural group in India under the transgender umbrella which in 2014 was recognized as a third gender by the Supreme court of India). Interviews took place online in the summer of 2020, and we sought to understand the effects of the virus and the pandemic on their lives and the possibilities of new technological practices such as virtual sex for this group. We conducted six interviews: two with representatives of NGOs working with sex workers, two with representatives of the All India Network of Sex Workers, and two with representatives of the Mitr Trust. Of the respondents, three earn their living through sex work. Additionally, secondary data such as media reports, articles, and online interviews were consulted for the study.

Virtual sex work is emerging as a new typology of sex work whereby sex workers use electronic devices such as computers or (mobile) phones to provide sex services through text, audio, and video. Especially during the pandemic, a shift in sex-work practices from physical sex to virtual sex could be observed, while some claimed a potential transformation in sexuality in which virtual sex practices could have played a critical role. However, our study brings to light the critical factors associated with this practice itself that makes its feasibility as alternative livelihood for sex workers in Delhi questionable.

Challenges facing sex workers

The sex workers we spoke to belonged to the lower socio-economic tiers of society and were migrants. Most sex workers reside in congested, unauthorized housing clusters, slums, or small, rented rooms with their friends or families in Delhi. Often, men in families of FSWs suffer from alcoholism and drug abuse, while both FSWs and trans women face intimate partner violence. Due to the stigma attached to sex work and gender non-conformity (for trans women/and hijras), most are abandoned by their biological families. Amina’s story is no different. Now 19, she was thrown out by her parents when she was 16 years old. She particularly recalls: “My sister gave me 100 rupees (less than 2 euros) and asked me to buy poison and die.”

Many FSWs live dual/hidden lives, while some work as a domestic help, security guard, or in small manufacturing companies on outskirts of Delhi, using these additional jobs only as a ‘cover’ for their sex work. Trans women and/or hijras are marginalized even among FSWs since they are not considered ‘real’ women. Due to their gender/sexual expression, opportunities for decent work are often closed to them and they are forced to choose sex work, begging, and/or traditional hijra ways (singing and dancing at ritual functions) of living.

The use of virtual sex technology to keep working

A strict lockdown and fear of being infected halted sex work, with dire implications for sex workers. Some we spoke to stayed hungry for up to three days, while some FSWs lacked enough money to buy milk for their children. Hence, although not an entirely new option for some, virtual sex became the only option during the crisis. However, through it sex workers could earn only a small fraction of the income they could have earned through non-virtual sex work.

They faced many problems. To begin with, the lack of private space to interact when making audio or video calls was difficult for sex workers, as well as for their clients, because during the crisis everyone was staying at home. Especially poor and uneducated sex workers lacked the basic digital literacy to use the phone and/or the Internet, as well as the confidence and skills necessary to perform virtual sex work. Their socioeconomic background, precarious living conditions, and the stigmatization of sex work never allowed them to acquire these skills and pride in their work. Moreover, for some to meet the cost of an Internet connection or smartphone itself was impossible.

Safety in receiving payment by the clients was also among the big challenges that this community faced. Sharing phone numbers with strangers resulted in adverse consequences. Many men threatened sex workers, stating that if they did not provide them with a free service, they would ‘expose’ their identity to their neighbours and families. Additionally, many clients refused to pay in advance for the services. Many times, they would disconnect the call and block the sex worker’s account or phone number just after receiving the service virtually, while sometimes men would delay payment rather than denying it altogether and later block the number of the sex worker. Some clients also threatened to distribute their phone number to strangers who would make their life even more difficult. For most of the sex workers, the biggest problem with virtual sex was ‘no guarantee of payment’.

Not (yet) a viable alternative

Virtual sex as an innovative practice during the COVID-19 crisis didn’t work for the majority of the sex workers we interviewed because of the lack of digital literacy, access to good-quality phones or personal computers and Internet connections, privacy, and the empathy of society. Receiving safe and secure payment was also one of their biggest challenges. In the Indian context, virtual sex practices thus cannot be treated as a substitute for ‘regular’ sex work, although it has captured remarkable attention as a ‘new’ type of sex work.

Opinions expressed in Bliss posts reflect solely the views of the author of the post in question.

About the authors

Birendra Singh is a Science Technology and Society (STS) studies researcher. He holds a Master of Technology (M.Tech) and a research Master (M.Phil) in the realm of science policy. His research interest includes, frugal and grassroots innovation emerging from marginalized spaces, politics of knowledge and social institutions. At ISS/EUR, his PhD project is aspiring to conceptualize knowledge and learning dynamics of the bottom-up frugal innovations. For more info click here.

Chitrakshi Vashisht has over eight years of work experience in development sector in the field of gender, sexuality, education, adult literacy, SRH (particularly in HIV/AIDS) in India where she worked with several grassroots level NGOs/CBOs strenuously working for the rights of women, men and transgender (including but not limited to hijra and kothi) persons. Her research interests are in the areas of policy, gender, sexuality, identity, culture, and intimate partner violence. She holds an M.Sc. in Gender and Development Studies from Asian Institute of Technology, Thailand, a Masters in Social Work from India and is presently pursuing her PhD from ISS.

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COVID-19 | “Stay safe” conversations that illuminate the glass walls between her and me by Mausumi Chetia

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Disasters are lived in different ways by different classes of people. During the COVID-19 pandemic, the differential impacts of disasters lie in the blurred spaces between populations fortunate enough to focus on ‘productivity-during-lockdown-times’ and others who focus on ‘providing-food-for-their-children-and-having-a-home-during-lockdown-times’. For generationally disaster-prone or disaster-torn populations of India, this global pandemic is only widening the class gaps that have characterized local realities for the Indian society for centuries.


My husband and I recently witnessed thousands of daily-wage workers and families marching towards a bus terminal near our home in Delhi. From there, they would take buses to their hometowns. Many were travelling on foot, too, trying to make their way to their homes hundreds of miles away from Delhi after the entire country was placed under lockdown from 25 March. This involuntary exodus of workers from India’s many cities that has continued despite fatal consequences is an oxymoronic act that seems to oppose the social distancing measures prescribed by the WHO and related suggestions from developed nations. It is not that these workers are unwilling to keep safe—it is simply that a substantial part of India’s population, including these workers, cannot afford to do so, as has been emphasized repeatedly.

My current research looks at the everyday lives of families facing protracted displacement due to the disaster of riverbank erosion along Brahmaputra River in Assam, a state in India. The families I engage with for my research source their income from daily wages. As economic activity suddenly ceased in March, the small stream of income stopped. Consequently, many of the workers were not able to travel back to their families, as they usually would when on leave or a break period. Many male members of these families are currently trapped in the towns within Assam where they work. They were unable to travel to their homes, many miles away, not only because of the physical cost of walking or taking a bus home, but for a different set of reasons as well.

Conversations on care and health that are classes apart

Pic 11
Rita and her friends after collecting firewood for cooking from a neighbouring paddy field. February 2020

A few days after the Delhi exodus, calls from concerned families I work with increased significantly. “You should have just stayed back here with us,” Rita Saikia, a regular caller, often quips. “Come back to the village whenever you can.” Megacities like Delhi have much higher infection rates than rural places, as many of the rural inhabitants I work with recognize.

Besides the exchange of well-intended thoughts and mutual worries, these telephonic conversations are constant reminders of the class differences in the everyday lives of people that surround us, beginning with those of the researched and the researcher. Ironically, despite my power position over the families I work with for my research, they offered me what they thought I did not have in Delhi: a sense of safety they felt in the countryside. Here, thus, they were able to close the distance between the researcher and the researched. Nevertheless, the challenges that these families are facing are colossal in comparison to those I am facing, such as not being able to travel to my university in Europe or being anxious about my inability to work on my dissertation as effectively as I would have liked to from home.

Rita[1] is from one of my host families in one of the villages where I spent time conducting research. With no other choice, she has been managing the household and two children all by herself this entire period. Ajeet, her husband, is a construction worker surviving off daily wages. He is currently stuck at one of his work sites, around 100 kilometers away from his family village. For now, the family is surviving from its meagre savings. Rice has been provided by the children’s school and another one-time ration (of rice) provided by the local government. Quietly hiding away from the eyes of authorities, Rita, along with other women from her village, regularly goes to collect firewood behind their village in the dry paddy field. Refilling the cooking gas cylinder from their savings is a luxury they cannot afford right now.

Ajeet had left the family’s only mobile phone at home, so he calls his family once every three days from his co-worker’s phone. Last night, their younger child of four cried himself to sleep because his father’s call was disconnected before the child could speak to him. The mobile credit had probably run out. The older child of six years smiled and casually said to me, “you know pehi[2], Deuta[3] will not come home now even if the virus dies, but only later. He needs to bring the money home.” This understanding of the daily realities and hardships, and the acceptance of the hardships of life, contrasts sharply with how more privileged people experience the coronavirus pandemic, like any other disaster.

Amidst all of this, the annual season of extreme winds in Assam has begun. Homes of three of the research families have been battered by these winds. The families plan to complete the rebuilding process once the lockdown is relaxed, unable to do so during the lockdown. In addition, come June, the monsoon will make its appearance, inviting the annual visit of the floods, erosion of the banks of Assam’s rivers, landslides and associated socio-economic insecurities that are now compounded by those the lockdown has brought about. A slowing economy post-pandemic and consequential decrease in sources of income, along with exposure to the said disasters, will significantly push these already displaced families further to the brink of poverty.

Living through the intersections of inequalities

Poverty is both a driver and a consequence of disasters[4]. The year 2020 could become one of the most barefaced examples of this. Many socio-economically and politically insecure populations elsewhere in India and in the neighbouring countries of Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, the Philippines, and Indonesia etc. are also disaster-prone or -torn. Once the world gets back on its feet post-COVID-19, these populations are set to face increasing human insecurities in their everyday lives arising due to the pandemic and its after-effects, like the families in Assam.

A society’s many aspects are unclothed in the aftermath of a disaster[5], which continues to reinforce social inequalities[6]. Disasters, therefore, including the current pandemic, hardly manage to break the walls of class structures – political, economic, social, and so forth. If anything, they increase the height and depth of these walls – between societies within a nation, between different nations, and, most definitely, between the researcher and the researched.

Pic 1
The Brahmaputra River at the backyard of one of the families’ home (from the research). January 2020


[1] All names of research participants have been changed
[2] Assamese word for paternal aunt
[3] Assamese word for father
[4] https://www.preventionweb.net/risk/poverty-inequality
[5] Oliver-Smith, Anthony, and Susanna M. Hoffman, eds. The angry earth: disaster in anthropological perspective. Routledge, 2019.
[6] Reid, Megan. “Disasters and social inequalities.” Sociology Compass 7.11 (2013): 984-997.

This article is part of a series about the coronavirus crisis. Find more articles of this series here.


Mausumi ChetiaAbout the author:

Mausumi Chetia is a PhD Researcher at the ISS. Her research looks at the everyday lives of disaster-displaced people in Assam, a northeastern state of India.

COVID-19 | How Kerala’s response to the COVID-19 pandemic is highlighting inadequate responses elsewhere in India by Sreerekha Sathi

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The Indian state of Kerala seems to have addressed the COVID-19 pandemic remarkably well, limiting the amount of virus-related infections and deaths through its assertive approach. Kerala’s outlier position in India is well known, and its development model that differs from those of other Indian states might well be the cause of its successes in responding to COVID-19. Central to this development model—and the state’s response—is a well-functioning public healthcare system rooted in the state’s left-wing government. The rest of India and other countries can learn several lessons from Kerala’s government and its people, if they are willing to listen.


By the end of April, India’s coronavirus infections exceeded 40,000 cases, while around 1,300 people have died from the virus. India has been under a severe lockdown since 25 March, which due to the country’s socio-economic dynamics has caused many problems for working-class and unemployed people, especially for the large body of internal migrant labourers and marginalized communities, many without the resources to self-quarantine. Millions of Indians will face starvation due to a sudden loss of income as the lockdown has made it impossible for them to engage in economic activity. More than 90 percent of India’s population of 1.3 billion people work in the informal sector, while two-thirds of the population moreover have to get by on less than US$2 a day.

Kerala, a small state on India’s southern tip, was hit first and hardest. The state reported its first case of coronavirus (COVID-19) on January 29th, and by May counted 500 infections, however had only three virus-related deaths with a recovery rate above 90 percent. It is evident that the state with its population of 33 million people has had significant successes thus far in staving off the virus. Here, for example, there is no shortage of medical masks for health professionals, no lack of hand sanitizers, and people living in the state have not been running around trying to hoard basic necessities as has happened in rich countries like the United States. The story of the state’s success in controlling the pandemic has attracted global attention, particularly because this state in India, one of the poorest countries in the Global South, has managed to do what many others with vastly more resources have not been able to.

So how has Kerala been doing this?

The coronavirus epidemic hit the state as it was in the process of recovering from two majors disasters that occurred in 2018—severe floods and the spread of the deadly Nipah virus. These disasters shaped responses to COVID-19 by creating a readiness to respond to future disasters, so that when the coronavirus emerged, the state and local communities were dedicated toward collectively fighting the COVID-19 pandemic, knowing what was at stake.

When the number of coronavirus cases reached around 100, the state government’s popular health minister declared a campaign called ‘Break the Chain’ to fight the further spread of the virus. The campaign that reached deep into Kerala’s densely populated cities and villages was focused on sharing information about the virus and how to fight it by educating people on maintaining personal hygiene. The state government in a short time installed water taps in all important public transportation hubs and public offices and provided free hand sanitizers. It also informed people about the importance of social distancing and self-quarantining. Students from colleges and universities along with volunteers from different sectors were entrusted with the duty of producing facial masks and hand soap and distributing them through community institutions. This engaged public response is world away from the policies elsewhere in India and many other parts of the world that consigned people to their houses, leaving them to fend for themselves without providing adequate support.

As in other countries, while health professionals remain at the center of the fight against the virus, it is important to point out just how central the community healthcare workers in Kerala have been. The backbone of the fight have been women called Accredited Social Health Activists (ASHAs) and Anganwadi workers (Sreerekha, 2017) who are employed in the state’s social welfare schemes and who were able to reach every nook and cranny of the state’s numerous cities, villages, and towns to trace contacts effectively. Alongside these women workers have been the state police and fire departments as well as other emergency services who have helped the state fulfill services such as distributing essential medicines to non-corona patients.

Most importantly, state-backed community kitchens have been a lifeline for many hungry residents. For the first time in history, by the third week of March, Kerala opened community kitchens in every village and municipality of the state, providing free cooked food so that no-one would go hungry during the lockdown. This contrasts very sharply with the experience of poor people in many other parts of India, where they are left mostly at the mercy of NGO or volunteer help.

How Kerala does it differently

A well-functioning public healthcare system is at the core of the state’s response, the foundation for which goes back to the much popular, well-debated and critiqued Kerala development model (Ravi Raman, 2010). The state is led by the Communist Party of India (Marxist) (CPIM), well known for its experiments with projects related to the grassroots decentralization of government and community-driven developmental planning in the 1990s. The Kerala development model does have its limitations, especially in addressing issues of gender and caste hierarchies and discrimination, and its successes have been achieved even alongside the pressures and compromises with liberal modernity. The state’s successes in fighting the pandemic though have been possible due to relevant steps taken on time and owing to the functional state mechanisms supplemented by the support and commitment of local community networks and an educated population.

With a very high number of expatriates and a big tourism industry the state needed to quickly implement restrictive measures. This has not been an easy path for Kerala, especially considering the fact that its officials are in a constant battle with the right-wing BJP central government. Time and again, the BJP central government has tried ‘to teach Kerala a lesson’ by cutting its funds or even halting the arrival of aid during emergencies. The right-wing party has until now failed to ever win any elections in the state.

Amidst all these dynamics, Kerala presents a useful lesson to the world as a state that even in the face of extreme adversity through sensitive and practical programs and with the support of a politically educated community has been able to take major steps to protect the interests of its residents, particularly marginalized and working class populations. Although the COVID-19 threat remains, Kerala has collectively mobilized to confront it. Kerala’s public healthcare system functions through effective local development measures and community and state networks to make it possible not only to tackle the COVID-19 threat, but also to protect the well-being of its people in so doing.


This article is part of a series about the coronavirus crisis. Find more articles of this series here.


About the author:IMG_4882

Sreerekha Sathi is Assistant Professor of Gender and Political Economy at at the International Institute of Social Studies of the Erasmus University in The Hague. Her research interests span theories of women’s work, feminist critiques of development, feminist research methodologies and social movements in the global south, specifically South Asia.

Inside Delhi’s Doorstep Public Services Delivery Scheme by Sushant Anand

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Informal brokers and middlemen are essential for the delivery of public services in India. In 2018, the government of Delhi launched a programme that seeks to formalise these informal public service providers through an external agency. Examing the programme, Sushant Anand finds that despite its rising popularity, traditional methods are still prevailing. He points out a number of challenges the government has yet to overcome.


My blog published in 2019 discussed brokers and their role in the delivery of public services. The Government of NCT Delhi (GNCTD) in 2018 launched a programme that seeks to formalise these informal public service providers through an external agency. While 40 services were covered in September 2018, this was soon increased to 70 (across 12 departments) by July 2019, and a scale-up to 100 was expected to be reached by the end of 2019. I take a look at the working of the doorstep delivery of public services project.

As part of the project, citizens can call ‘1076’ and book an appointment with a mobile sahayak (facilitator). The mobile sahayak visits the service seekers’ residence at the given time and collects all requisite documents for the service, submits these documents with the concerned department in exchange of Rs 50 as facilitation fees. The sahayak then collects the final certificate from the government department, and delivers it back to the citizen to complete the transaction.

The services in this project include provision of certificates from the revenue department, driving licences and related services from the transport department, and availing access to certain social sector schemes. Most of these services are in high demand, and it can take days for service seekers to apply for and obtain important documents that can be essential to get benefits from government welfare schemes.

As per an annual report card, the GNCTD claims to have been able to service approximately 99.5 per cent of the 2,00,000 requests booked. As many as 13 lakh calls (1.3 mn) were made by the public. The facility currently operates with more than 125 mobile sahayaks, 100 call centre executives, 11 supervisors, 35 dealing assistants and 25 coordinators[1].

The institutionalisation of informal broker practices does incentivise assistance to the general public, however, there still are some teething issues observed through a year of the project’s operations.

  • Technical readiness: The launch of the scheme was accompanied by a series of glitches in the system due to fluctuating demand and the backend team modified the software multiple times. The mobile sahayaks and the call centres were also initially working in silos, and delivery of services reportedly suffered due to lack of coordination.
  • Traditional methods are still more popular: While the scheme was primarily launched to minimise the complexity of Government to Citizen (G2C) services from multiple departments through intermediaries, it was seen that more than 50 per cent of applications were still made directly at the window.
  • Rationalising resources: The scheme also faced issues with respect to planning its human resource base as most sahayaks initially quit their jobs due to low wages, and it was difficult to replace them. Among the requirements was for sahayaks to have their own motorcycle for conveyance, which is difficult to fulfill.
  • Understanding scale: Even as 1.3 million calls were made to the toll-free number, only 200,000 requests were booked and 150,000 were successfully resolved. While the churn rate of successful completion was high, it appears that the scale and demand of services was underestimated, resulting in only 15% cases being booked out of the total calls received.

Source: Hindustan Times, 16 July 2019

All the challenges have important lessons. Donald F. Kettl, a scholar of government and administrative reforms, has suggested that New Public Management (NPM) (such as the doorstep delivery of public services project) aims to “remedy a pathology of traditional bureaucracy that is hierarchically structured and authoritatively driven”. The accommodation of the role that brokers have played in service delivery in this case can be considered as a good example of NPM techniques. The government has attempted to eliminate rent-seeking, and create a leaner, incentive-driven local administration.

Ketll suggests that the six key characteristics of the NPM approach are productivity, marketisation, service orientation, decentralisation, policy oriented and being accountable by design. NPM clearly articulates a result-oriented relationship, specifying performance in a clear manner.  This scheme was understood to be one-of-a-kind offering in India. While I would acknowledge it to be a constructive innovation by the GNCTD, the lack of technical capacity, public readiness and average resource allocation makes it less likely that the project will become a norm.

Any government service, when offered to the public, largely aims to ease public life or welfare, taking into account some degree of compatibility for uptake and reception by its beneficiaries. For a megacity like New Delhi, strong migration patterns, ad hoc living conditions for many, and the comfort associated with informal systems of access to public service delivery can become additional challenges.


This article was originally published by the Accountability Initiative, Centre for Policy Research.


 References
[1]‘Delhi Government delivered on 99.5% of doorstep service requests,’ Hindustan Times, 10 September 2019. Access it here.

sushant.pngAbout the author:

Sushant Anand is a senior officer at the Accountability Initiative. He has a vast spectrum of experience to work in areas including health, education, WASH, resource management and climate change in organisations like FICCI, IPE Global, Ipsos and TERI.
Sushant is a public policy professional by training and completed his MA in Development Studies from the ISS. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do skill building training programs improve labor market outcomes among rural youth in India? by Bhaskar Chakravorty

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In India, 54% of the country’s population is below the age of 25 and faces a high rate of unemployment. The government of India is implementing job-linked skill building training programs to improve labour market outcomes among disadvantaged rural youths across India. The study[1] conducted in rural Bihar suggests the outcomes to be short-lived while caste discrimination and low paying job placements play a crucial role in negating the initial returns of the training.    


India is an example of a developing country facing a pressing need to devise strategies to provide regular employment to its youthful population. India is among the youngest nations in the world, and the expected ‘bulge’ in the 15–59 age group over the next decade offers an opportunity but also a challenge. The opportunity stems from the expected global shortage of 56 million young people (15–35 years), and India could potentially serve as a worldwide sourcing hub for skilled manpower (Ministry of Labour and Employment 2014). On the other hand, a failure to provide opportunities to the youth population as they enter the labour market may translate into a ‘demographic disaster’ rather than a dividend.

The twin challenge of creating jobs while at the same time bridging the skill gap is well recognized by the Indian government. Consistent with this policy priority, on September 25th, 2014, the government launched the ‘Deen Dayal Upadhyaya Grameen Kaushal Yojana’ (DDUGKY), a program for training, skill building and job placement intended for rural youth from poor families.

The scheme implements skill development through a public–private partnership mode, whereby registered private sector partners or project implementation agencies (PIA) plan and implement skills training and placement program for participants. The scheme is supposed to train rural youths of the age group 15–35. They are eligible as candidates if they belong to below poverty line (BPL) category or any member of the family is a member of a self-help group (SHG). Depending on the course, the training can be of three, six, nine or twelve months. Training courses offered by the PIA are approved by the National Council for Vocational Training (NCVT) or Sector Skill Councils (SSCs). Post-training, PIAs are required to place a minimum of 70% of trained individuals in jobs which offer regular monthly wages at or above a minimum monthly wage of Rs. 6000. Post-placement financial support of Rs.1000 is provided to the on-job candidates for a duration of two to six months.

The intention of the DDUGKY and other similar skills training programs is to attenuate unemployment and poverty, but this is possible only if social structures do not hinder voluntary participation in the program. If there are differences at the level of program accessibility based on caste, gender or other social markers, either in program participation or in job placement after training, then increasing government spending and augmenting the supply of trained individuals may achieve little towards the final goal of enhancing welfare and equity.

To understand whether skill building programs improve the labour market outcomes and social mobility among disadvantaged youth, the study was conducted with 263 DDUGKY participants of a three-months residential training program and 263 non-participants in mid 2016 in the Darbhanga district of Bihar, India.

The analysis of the findings is based on comparing individuals who had attended a training course sponsored by the scheme (termed “DDUGKY participants”) with individuals who had applied but did not eventually attend the training (termed “non-participants”). Analysis showed that the scheme is very well targeted, and more than 90% of those who attended the training and showed an interest in the scheme belonged to below-poverty-line families. While the NGO appeared to have well-qualified personnel, the bulk of the participants (64.6%) were not satisfied with the training they had received. With regard to employment effects, 42% of the graduates were placed immediately after the training, which translates into a 29% percentage point impact of training on employment.

However, these gains were short-lived and within two to six months after training, the impact of the scheme on employment was statistically not different from zero. About a third of the placed graduates left their jobs due to caste discrimination and a third exited as the salaries offered were too low to cover their expected living costs. While employment effects were zero, the training did help graduates move from agricultural to non-agricultural positions.

In conclusion, the analysis presented here focused on one training course in one district of rural Bihar. While this study does not paint a very optimistic picture of scheme-induced employment effects nor is it overtly negative about the scheme itself. Indeed, in the current case the positive effects of the scheme appear to have been partially undone by deep-rooted discrimination. It is entirely possible that other courses offered in other parts of the country are able to achieve higher placement rates and that trained graduates are not subject to post-placement discrimination.

Notwithstanding this possibility, what this study highlights is the urgent need for credible analysis of the slew of skills and job training programs that have recently been launched by the government. These should focus not only on initial job placement but also examine employment status after a time lag. Finally, while simply dictating job creation through such skills training courses and demanding 70% placement is unlikely to succeed, the analysis presented here shows that employment effects in the range of about 15% are likely to deliver a nonzero return.


[1] MA Dissertation (2015-16) at International Institute of Social Studies, Erasmus University Rotterdam, The Hague, The Netherlands


Image Credit: Atharva Tulsi on Unsplash


About the author:

BhaskarBhaskar Chakravorty is a development professional with more than 13 years of experience working on a range of development issues. At present, he is pursuing a PhD at Warwick Institute for Employment Research (IER) and is a Chancellor’s International Scholar (CIS) at the university. Previously, he completed a MA in Development Studies with specialization in Poverty Studies and Econometric Evaluation of Development Policies from the ISS. He was awarded the prestigious Joint Japan World Bank Graduate Scholarship (JJ/WBGSP) for undertaking the MA program.

 

 

 

What is happening to civic space in India? by Nandini Deo, Dorothea Hilhorst and Sunayana Ganguly

We were fortunate to be part of a two-day workshop on civil society relations in India, organised in the framework of a research on advocacy in the Dutch co-financing programme. There were fascinating presentations of research on civil society and civic space with a loose connection to the Dutch development programme of ‘Dialogue and Dissent’. In the fantastic company of some of India’s most outstanding civil society activists and scholars, we discussed the diverse realities of organisational life in today’s India. Here are some take-aways…


Is Civic Space Shrinking or Changing?

This is definitely a period of the shrinking of civic space.  Some argued that it is simply a part of the normal cycles of opening and closing space, while others suggest that there is something particularly worrying about the current moment. One of the participants stated that there is hardly any space left to talk about human rights or to criticise the government. But the picture remains varied. The Indian government selectively provides civic space, inviting NGOs to co-create policies, that may or may not be implemented. However, other parts of civil society are oppressed, and jail-time or violence against social activists is no exception. ‘It takes a lot of sacrifice today to be an activist’. Newspapers worldwide observe how central identity politics have become in India and how religious minorities face increasing discrimination. What was interesting in this respect were the testimonies of participants of the workshop who explained that the harshest treatment is not for the identity movements, but for those movements that fight to protect their natural resources against national or multinational companies aiming to exploit forests, water reserves or mineral deposits.

However, civil society is also changing. NGOs adapt and find different roles, varying from facilitating or implementing government schemes to groups that retain more confrontational strategies. While participants of the workshop grieved for the loss of space for critical development discourses, they conveyed a sense of determination to make the best of the space that was still available and some were even optimistic about the transformative power they may have. One of the dualisms that was questioned in the workshop was the distinction between co-optation and autonomy. One of the participants made a strong claim that  one can always seek transformative power, even if one is merely contracted to implement a welfare scheme of the government. ‘In every policy it is the implementation that matters, and showing a different practice is already transformational’.

With the government retreating from the key areas of governance, civil society’s role becomes even more crucial at a time when their operational space is shrinking. It was also felt that despite the need to defend the constitution and to uphold dissent in public life, civil society must engage with policymakers in order to not only promote people-friendly policies but also to prevent a policy-hijack by the powerful. There was a lively debate on civil society’s legitimacy and its role as a representative or a translator between marginalized groups and policy-makers.

Importance of Case Studies and Context

A recurring message from the activists was that the research on civil society needs to be embedded. On the one hand, the case of India is unique, with millions of  NGOs, many of them with a long history of commitment to social transformation. But India can also be analysed as a case of several ‘somethings’. India is a case of a diverse and strong civil society. It is also a case standing for the many countries where civil society needs to operate in a shrinking space and a controlling government. It is also a country facing the pressures of neoliberalism to adopt ‘business-friendly’ policies while trying to reduce poverty and create environmentally sustainable practices.  To study these broader phenomena, participants argued that it is most powerful to do case studies. In that way, ‘readers are invited to picture and even smell the local realities’, and most people learn more from a case than from a pile of aggregated, dislocated data.

Hate is in the air

In between the fine-grained presentations on the roles, complementarities, and everyday practices of development agencies, the conversation kept drifting back to civic space. When we say that civic space is shrinking, this usually refers to legislative measures, human rights violations, and other oppressive practices to curb the space for civil society. But what we see today in many places, including India, is a change in atmosphere. People seeking social justice find themselves increasingly operating in restricted spaces, where populist speech demonises reformers, and legitimises opinions that were until recently unsayable in public. As someone said: ‘Hate is in the air, in many ways and against many‘. Hate of all kinds of ‘others’ extends to hate for people who promote inclusion. How to survive as an ‘NGO’ in a time when the Indian government excludes millions of Indians with Bengali roots from citizenship, when the US president shamelessly advertises his white American dream, and when increasing numbers of Europeans opine that those rescuing drowning Africans in the Mediterranean should be imprisoned? One coping mechanism is simply to make sure that we keep seeking out the company of the likeminded. Ending the workshop with an evening of songs, poetry and beauty was a healing experience indeed, refilling us with the courage to invent new spaces and redefine our roles in a changing world.


Image Credit: SiamlianNgaihte on Pixabay


About the authors:

photo nandini

Nandini Deo is an Associate Professor of Political Science at Lehigh University.  She is working on a book about  corporate influence over civil society in India.  Her previous books are Postsecular Feminisms: Religion and Gender in Transnational Context, Mobilizing Religion and Gender in India: The role of activism, and The Politics of Collective Advocacy in India: Tools and Traps (written with Duncan McDuie Ra).  She has been collaborating with a group of researchers on a study of representation and collaboration by civil society organizations in India sponsored by the Dutch foreign ministry.  She is spending a sabbatical year in Mumbai and can be reached at ndd208@lehigh.edu.

TheaDorothea Hilhorst is Professor of Humanitarian Aid and Reconstruction at the International Institute of Social Studies of Erasmus University Rotterdam. She is a regular author for Bliss. Read all her posts here

photo sunayana

Sunayana Ganguly is currently Assistant Professor at the Azim Premji University in Bangalore. She has previously worked with the Industrial Ecology Group, University of Lausanne (Switzerland) and the German Development Institute (Bonn). Her work explores environmental governance, civil society, deliberative democracy and sustainable consumption with a focus on South Asia. Her book ‘Deliberating Environment Policy in India – Participation and the role of Advocacy’ was published by Routledge in 2015. She can be reached at Sunayana.ganguly@apu.edu.in.

Does attending preschool benefit Indian children at a later stage? by Saikat Ghosh

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Despite having one of the world’s largest early childhood education and care program named ‘Integrated Child Development Scheme (ICDS)’ in operation since 1975, the impact of such provisions on children’s later development is still largely unknown in India. Empirical evidence from India suggests that attending preschool makes children more sociable but does not improve their cognitive ability.


Does Early Childhood Education (ECE) matter?

Childhood is the most important phase of human life and the strong foundation made during the early years can lead to improvements in children’s cognitive and social development. It has already been witnessed that ECE contributes substantially to children’s development and well-being and children attending early education programs is associated with improved performance in school1, 2. ECE is considered extremely effective for children from disadvantaged backgrounds as it can narrow the gap in early development between children from different socio-economic classes3.

On the contrary, evidence also suggests that early, extensive, and continuous nonmaternal care may have some development risks for young children and the larger society4, 5. Although ECE may increase cognitive skills at school entry, it may also increase behavioural problems and reduces self-control6. Therefore, there also exist some sort of disagreements regarding the effects of ECE programs on children’s development.

Based on the above backdrop, a study was recently conducted to understand whether attending preschool provide any benefit to children at the later stage of their life. Based on a sample of 1369 first graders, the study took place in India which is home of approximately twenty percent of the world’s child population in the age group of 0-6 years. The key question asked in this context was: do the children who attended preschool possess greater skills at the primary school level? Children’s accumulation of cognitive and social skills was assessed by respective class teachers using twelve indicators such as their attention towards class, ability to remember lessons, friendliness towards peers, etc.

Does attending preschool help Indian children?

The results from the study suggest that the ECE provisions in India are able to contribute to child development, but only partially. Children who attended preschool were found performing better, but this association was not uniform over different skill types. Although attending preschool seems to help children in improving their social skills, there was no such effect with respect to cognitive skills. Furthermore, in contrast to the parental notion about the private preschools being better than the ICDS ones, there was no such evidence found of any of the preschools having a relative edge over the other.

Given the fact that not only preschool attendance but also the quality of the preschool matters, one can hold the quality of preschools in India as responsible for not being able to provide any cognitive incentive to children. The focus of the ICDS programme seems more on the feeding aspects than on promoting behavioural change in childcare practices. The people responsible in these settings are often not very well educated and do not have the required skills to take on this responsibility7( p.30). Besides, the curriculum followed in the private preschools were also criticized for its quality and suitability for children8, 9. Therefore, both types of preschools seem lacking the quality to contribute to children’s cognitive development.

On the other hand, regardless of the quality of care and curriculum, attending preschool allows children to interact and communicate with peers and integrate themselves. Normatively, first friendships are established during the preschool years, and the acquisition of social skills such as helping and sharing, etc. during preschool predict later school engagement and academic success10, 11.

Therefore, by providing an improved and more scientific curriculum to the children, ECE provisions in India can help children in greater skill accumulation. Taking into account that parents mainly send their children to preschool for early education and school readiness12, emphasizing on the educational component of the ICDS programme could attract more parents towards it. Given the fact that the ICDS programme is mainly targeting the marginalized section of the society, expanding its coverage and improving the quality of service provisions would certainly help children from the disadvantaged backgrounds to build a strong foundation.


References:
  1. Weiland, C. & Yoshikawa, H. (2013). Impacts of a prekindergarten program on children’s mathematics, language, literacy, executive function, and emotional skills. Child Development, 84(6), 2112–2130.
  2. DeCicca, P. & Smith, J. D. (2011). The long-run impacts of early childhood education: Evidence from a failed policy experiment. National Bureau of Economic Research. Working Paper 17085.
  3. UNICEF (2016). The state of the world’s children: A fare chance for every child. Retrieved from: https://www.unicef.org/publications/files/UNICEF_SOWC_2016.pdf
  4. Belsky, J. (2002). Quantity counts: Amount of child care and children’s socioeconomic development. Development and Behavioural Pediatrics, 23(3): 167-170.
  5. Belsky, J. (2001). Developmental risks (still) associated with early child care. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry & Allied Discipline, 42(7): 845—859.
  6. Magnuson, K. A., Ruhm, C. J. & Waldfogel, J. (2004). Does prekindergarten improve school preparation and performance?. NBER Working Paper No. 10452
  7. UNESCO (2006). Select issues concerning ECCE India. Paper commissioned for the EFA Global Monitoring Report 2007, Strong foundations: early childhood care and education.
  8. Kaul, V. & Sankar, D. (2009). Early childhood care and education in India’. New Delhi: NUEPA.
  9. Swaminathan, M. (1998). The First Five Years: A Critical Perspective on Early Childhood Care and Education in India. New Delhi: SAGE.
  10. Howes, C., Hamilton, C. E., & Philipsen, L. C. (1998). Stability and continuity of child-caregiver and child-peer relationships. Child Development, 69, 418–426.
  11. Ladd, G. W., Price, J. M., & Hart, C. H. (1988). Predicting preschoolers’ peer status from their playground behaviors. Child Development, 59, 986–992.
  12. Ghosh, S. (2019). Inequalities in demand and access to early childhood education in India. International Journal of Early Childhood. DOI: 1007/s13158-019-00241-8

    Image Credit: Jay Galvin on Flickr


About the Author:

saikatDr. Saikat Ghosh is a Postdoctoral Researcher at the Leibniz Institute for Educational Trajectories (LifBi), Germany where he is leading a project focusing on early childhood education in India.  He is a former ISS Graduate (2011-12) and awarded his Ph.D. from the University of Bamberg in 2018. His research interest centers on poverty, education, inequality, and social policy analysis with a particular focus on developing countries. Formerly, he has worked for the Bamberg Graduate School of Social Sciences (BAGSS), Germany, UNU-WIDER, Helsinki, and the State Government of West Bengal, India.

What does Modi 2.0 mean for the world’s largest democracy? By Meenal Thakur

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The mandate of India’s general election silenced the ‘if not Modi then who’ debate which had been brewing given the country’s economic instability and rising communal polarization.  The historic re-election of Narendra Modi as India’s Prime Minister fundamentally re-ordered the country’s political landscape and reaffirmed people’s faith in him to fulfil their economic aspirations. While critics are wary of the ethno-nationalism that fueled social turmoil under the new government, others look forward to Modi’s promised vision of a ‘New India’ in his second term.


Political analysts called the phenomenon a ‘Modi wave’ that gripped the nation, when in May 2014, Narendra Modi – leader of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) was first elected as the Prime Minister of India by the greatest mandate the country had witnessed in over 30 years.

Five years later, Modi was expected to come back to power but with reduced numbers, however, Modi proved the naysayers wrong. Not only did he get re-elected, but his party won 303 of the 542 parliamentary constituencies, breaking its own record of 282 in 2014. The Modi wave, stronger than ever before, consumed whatever came in its way. BJP candidates, including one with terrorism charges against her, piggybacked on Modi’s popularity and rode their way to the Parliament. The biggest casualty being India’s Grand Old Party- The Indian National Congress which was sent back to the pits as it failed miserably to even win enough seats to become the leader of opposition.

The two sides of Modi’s staggering victory were captured by the Time Magazine days before the election ended. The magazine’s May cover called Modi “India’s Divider-in-chief”- a play on his religious nationalism which has resulted in a hostile environment for Muslims who constitute 14% of India’s population.

However, the magazine also carried a counter-view –‘Modi the Reformer’ where it pinned Modi as India’s best hope for economic reform. A similar line was towed by many publications and political analysts back home- India needs change, the opposition is in shambles and Modi remains the only person who can deliver.

The unassailable megalomaniac

This election and the BJP’s historic mandate raises fundamental questions about the values of secularism and liberalism that are the cornerstones of the world’s largest democracy. While India has taken pride in its diverse social fabric- something that its founding fathers and mothers had cherished deeply as the nation’s strength- Modi’s victory acted as a mirror to the Indian society. Blow by blow, he decimated the popular perception of ‘Unity in Diversity’ and appealed to the darkest corner of the middle-class Hindu’s mind.

Modi fanned, and vehemently so, the burning yet unexposed cauldron of religious intolerance in the Indian society. Issues of rising unemployment and farm distress raised by the opposition were overshadowed by Modi’s hyper nationalism. A strategically crafted election campaign coupled with Modi’s gift of the gab roused powerful emotions in the electorate who were made to believe that Modi was the one who would protect the cow (a sacred animal for Hindus) and the country (in the wake of attacks by Pakistan-based terrorist groups).

To be sure, if the BJP’s thumping victory was a result of a toxic ethno-nationalism which painted the country saffron (the colour of India’s Hindu right wing), it also reflected a resonance with Modi’s economic and foreign policies in the last five years. To his credit, Modi’s first tenure saw improved relations with the United States, China, and Japan. Hugging his counterparts on foreign visits not only made for great optics but also earned him the praise of millions of voters for putting India on the world map.

Back home, his social sector schemes helped him expand the BJP’s voter base from upper-caste Hindus and penetrate the lower caste votes.

Road ahead

The pro-incumbency votes mean that people still believe in Modi’s hallmark motto ‘Sabka saath, sabka vikas’ (Collective effort, inclusive growth) and expect him to deliver on reviving economic growth and addressing rising unemployment and farm distress.

Just a day after the BJP government was re-elected, unemployment figures were released showing unemployment at a 45-year high in India. Many allege that the government suppressed the information until the election was over. While the Modi government’s aversion to transparency is the subject matter for another article, let’s just say that the next five years will make or mar the aspirations of millions of unemployed youth constituting more than 50% of the country’s population.

The government also has the task of reviving India’s aviation sector and continue working on the hard-pressed infrastructure sector with the same rigor as shown in its previous term. Challenges will also arise in the health sector for which the government has announced affordable universal health coverage, popularly known as ‘Modicare’- another testament to Brand Modi.

Economic policies aside, Modi’s next term will also shape what political scientist Yogendra Yadav calls ‘the idea of India.’

Concerns have been expressed about the alarming rise of anti-intellectualism as well as subversion of democratic institutions under the BJP government. For example. the appointment of Hindu nationalist ideologue, Swaminathan Gurumurthy (the key person credited with advising Modi to undertake the disastrous demonetization drive in 2016) to the board of the Reserve Bank of India in 2018. However, this is just one of the salvos of the BJP government privileging Hindu religion and identity politics over science and rationality. BJP ministers have in the past dismissed Darwin’s theory of evolution as unscientific.

The next five years will also be crucial for minorities (mostly Muslims and Dalits) who have suffered episodes of mob lynching by self-appointed cow vigilantes who seem to be getting emboldened since the BJP came to power. Silence on Modi’s part and inflammatory statements made by BJP leaders to incite communalism do not bode well for the minorities in India.

The absolute majority with which Modi won has bolstered the already aggressive Hindu right wing and has heightened fears of India heading towards an authoritarian democracy. Nevertheless, the mandate also gives him the legitimate power to decide, act and deliver and, take India on the path of progress.

Meanwhile, the world watches India to see whether the absolute power wrested in Modi would make our worst fears come true. I hope not.


Image Credit: narendramodiofficial on Flickr


Screenshot_20190707-213122About the author:

Meenal Thakur is from India and is currently pursuing her masters in Governance and Development Policy at The International Institute of Social Studies. A former journalist, she wrote on politics and development for one of India’s leading national dailies before joining ISS.

Brokering India’s public service delivery by Sushant Anand

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Informal mediation peopled by brokers, touts, middlemen has over the years embedded itself within public service delivery. Even as they are not within the government system, brokers have come to play an important role, and have reshaped it. The Municipality of Delhi is no exception. Through this article I discuss as to who are these people, and how do broker practices impact governance?


I met Pankaj Sharma, 36, while researching a paper on informal institutions. For the past 15 years, he has been assisting people to complete their documentation for any work they may have at the zonal office of New Delhi Municipal Council (NDMC) in Karol Bagh, a popular locality in the national capital of India. He is not employed by the government, and carries out his business sitting on a boulder or under a tree. He likes to be known as a consultant, but came into this line of work by accident as a result of unemployment.

Driven mainly by patronage networks, brokers, fixers or touts behave as ‘gatekeepers’ may block or expedite access to public services based on the payment of a fee based on his/her special position as an access provider (Kumar & Landy, 2012: 130-131). Brokers and other such informal networks effect a new understanding amongst citizens seeking to make use of public services – services that are out of reach for citizens if not for them.

With respect to the citizen’s services at the South and North Municipalities of Delhi, service seekers had trouble finding their way in the maze of departments at the institutional premises, and thus preferred approaching the broker at a nominal fee. The officers within the institutions viewed these brokers as a complementary part of the service delivery owing to the fact that these are legal consulting type entities. The brokers themselves, however, felt that they should be institutionalised as service partners due to the high volume of services seekers, usual technical glitches, steep learning curve for officials to keep up with systemic interventions, and the general acceptability of the public.

The Helmke & Levitsky (table below) framework of 2004 offers an understanding of the linkage between the existence of informal institutions and formal government systems.

graph

The typology provided by Helmke and Levitsky (2004: 728) is based on the outcomes of informal rules and effectiveness of the formal rules in a given context. The outcome variables dictate whether the result of these rules are in line or against what one may expect from strict adherence of formal rules. The effectiveness variable on the other hand is the extent to which the formal rules are realised in practice. It is understood that where the rules and procedures are ineffective, the probability of enforcement will be low (Helmke and Levitsky, 2004: 728).

The study findings based upon service-seeker surveys & interviews confirmed a direct dependence on these brokers outside any and every municipal office in New Delhi. A sample of 30 service seekers across two municipal zone offices conveyed that 80% of them usually approached brokers to speed up the process of their work at a minimal fee irrespective of their economic status. While the less educated clients seemed more vulnerable to exploitation, the educated, upper class clients too waited for their turns for calculation of property tax, if not for arrangement of paperwork to obtain birth/death certificate. There seemed to be a process oriented equilibrium where an imperfect system seemed to be working well, both at supply and demand side.

The modus operandi of broker-led governance was further mapped against the recent doorstep delivery of public services policy initiated by the Government of National Capital Territory of Delhi (GNCTD) to understand the inherent complexities in the system of delivery of public services. The doorstep delivery of public services was a set-up where mediation was institutionalised as part of the system to prevent exploitation of service seekers by the brokers who established ‘temporary power centres’ that could exacerbate access problems (Media reports in 2017-18). The public institution arrangement had been plagued with weeding brokers and touts, especially to ease the citizens off the red tape myriad, information asymmetries and bureaucratic violence (Gupta, 2012) especially in matters related to water, electricity and transport authorities.

Mediated governance has no accountability to its users but brokers are usually risk averse and efficient in delivering services to ensure the leverage of positive marketing and, maintaining their space in the ‘mediation market’. In other words, the system is far from being transparent as nobody knows the legitimacy of the means used by fixers. The mediation of public services may well be offering services to citizens at a price in the short-term, but it is a larger reflection of the lack of capacity, complacency and poor design of service delivery systems in the long-run.


This is a shortened version of an article published here by the Accountability Initiative, Centre for Policy Research.


 References
Gisselquist, R.M. (2012) Good Governance as a Concept, and Why this Matters for Development Policy. WIDER Working Paper
Gupta, A., 2012. Red tape: Bureaucracy, structural violence, and poverty in India. Duke University Press.
Helmke, G. and S. Levitsky (2004) ‘Informal Institutions and Comparative Poli-tics: A Research Agenda’, Perspectives on politics 2(4): 725-740
Kumar, G. and F. Landy (2012) ‘Vertical Governance: Brokerage, Patronage and Corruption in Indian Metropolises’, ‘Vertical Governance: Brokerage, Patronage and Corrup-tion in Indian Metropolises’, Governing India’s Metropolises, pp. 127-154. Routledge India

 


sushant.pngAbout the author:

Sushant Anand is a senior officer at the Accountability Initiative. He has a vast spectrum of experience to work in areas including health, education, WASH, resource management and climate change in organisations like FICCI, IPE Global, Ipsos and TERI.
Sushant is a public policy professional by training and completed his MA in Development Studies from the ISS. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do teachers discriminate in occupational expectations and grading? by Shradha Parashari

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Marks assigned by teachers tend to motivate students, have bearing on their career choices, admission to universities and affect students’ self-esteem. Existing literature shows that teachers may hold preconceived stereotypes and implicit biases based on their students’ ethnicity, caste, class, and sex, which influence the grades that the teachers award. Consistent with that, my own research among 120 teachers in 8 private and 11 Indian government schools found evidence of teacher discrimination on the basis of students’ caste and socioeconomic status. 


Marks assigned by teachers tend to motivate and incentivize students (Van Ewijk, 2011). Even basic in-class tests are important for students and in the long term are likely to have a bearing on their career choices (Hanna and Linden, 2012). Lavy (2008) points out that marks given to students by teachers not only determine students’ class ranking and admission to universities, but also act as a reward or punishment that can either boost or lower students’ self-esteem.

With regard to teacher influence on test scores, existing research suggests that teachers hold preconceived stereotypes, implicit biases that affect teachers’ expectations based on students’ ethnicity, socio-economic status, caste, sex and physical attractiveness which may influence the grades that they award. Psychological research shows that teachers may look hard for errors while marking essays or tests of minority students so that the results conform to their expectation. That is called an expectation confirmation bias (Sprietsma, 2012).

Experimental studies in the economics literature confirm this. For example, Hanna and Linden’s (2012) study on India shows that teachers assigned lower marks to low caste students relative to high caste students. Similarly, Sprietsma (2012) shows evidence for Germany of low marks assigned to essays written by students with Turkish names relative to essays by students with German names. Tenenbaum and Ruck (2007) find that US-American teachers hold lower expectations for minority African-American students relative to their Caucasian peers.

Consistent with these findings, my own research in 8 private and 11 government schools among 120 teachers in Delhi found evidence of teacher discrimination in occupational expectations (expectation of career paths of students) and grades awarded on the basis of students’ caste and socioeconomic status. To uncover this discrimination, I utilized a randomized experiment.

The experiment of the study was conducted in three stages. In the first stage, students were randomly selected and invited to write essays on the topic “My future career ambition” in which student’s described their background, occupational paths/career paths and challenges to achieve those career paths. In the second stage, I randomly manipulated students’ caste and socioeconomic status on the set of essays. The last and third stage involved visiting schools and requesting teachers to mark essays on a score of 100 and rate occupational expectations (expectations about student’s career paths) on a score of 5. The findings from my research are in line with existing literature on teacher discrimination in schools.

Discrimination confirmed

I found that teachers discriminate in holding occupational expectations and grading. Teachers assigned lower occupational expectations for essays assigned to low caste and low socio-economic status relative to high caste and high socio-economic status. However, high socio-economic status mitigates the effect of low caste. Consistent with this bias in occupational expectations estimates show a bias in grading which is consistent with Sprietsma’s (2012) findings that lower expectations of teachers against  minority students might further perpetuate discrimination in grading.

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Figure 1 and 2: Mean teacher’s occupational expectations and Marks

Essays assigned low caste and low socio-economic status characteristics are assigned 3.64 points lower marks relative to essays assigned to high caste and high socio-economic status. Given the ultra-competitive nature of schooling in India and the importance of grades in determining access to higher education, a 3.6 point disadvantage is substantial. There is also a trade-off between caste and socio-economic status. Belonging to high socio-economic status lowers the extent of discrimination faced by low caste students as marking bias falls by 0.8 points for low caste and high socio-economic status students. The research further explains the origin of these results and finds that the discrimination against low caste students arises from a majority number of high caste teachers in the sample and not from the low caste teachers.

Conclusion

Education has the power to transform lives of students who belong to minority classes and castes. However; they may not be able to reap advantage of education if teachers discriminate in occupational expectations and grading. Since discrimination is associated with feelings of inferiority among students and low self-esteem adversely affects their admission to universities, their career choices and their overall development (Hoff and Pandey, 2006), teacher discrimination is a matter of concern. There is an urgent need for proper training mechanisms in schools that address teacher discrimination, requesting teachers to take implicit bias tests, educating teachers about stereotypes and implicit bias that might bias teachers’ expectations against minority students and perpetuate discrimination in grading. Further formulating a policy of standardized objective grading can also aid in minimizing discrimination in grades awarded.

Link to the author’s research paper: https://www.iss.nl/en/news/teacher-discrimination-occupational-expectations-and-grading-shradha-parashari


References
Casteel, C.A. (1998) ‘Teacher–student Interactions and Race in Integrated Class-rooms’, The Journal of Educational Research 92(2): 115-120.
Ferguson, R.F. (2003) ‘Teachers’ Perceptions and Expectations and the Black-White Test Score Gap’,  Urban Education 38(4): 460-507.
Hanna, R.N. and L.L. Linden (2012) ‘Discrimination in Grading’, American Economic Journal: Economic Policy 4(4): 146-168.
Hoff, K. and P. Pandey (2006) ‘Discrimination, Social Identity, and Durable Inequalities’, American Economic Review 96(2): 206-211.
Lavy, V. (2008) ‘Do Gender Stereotypes Reduce Girls’ Or Boys’ Human Capital Out-comes? Evidence from    a Natural Experiment’, Journal of Public Economics 92(10-11): 2083-2105.
Sprietsma, M. (2012) ‘Discrimination in Grading: Experimental Evidence from Primary School Teachers’,            Empirical Economics 45(1): 523-538.
Tenenbaum, H.R. and M.D. Ruck (2007) ‘Are Teachers’ Expectations Different for Racial Minority than for European American Students? A Meta-Analysis.’, Journal of Educational Psychology 99(2): 253.
Van Ewijk, R. (2011) ‘Same  Work, Lower Grade? Student Ethnicity and Teachers’ Subjective Assessments’, Economics of Education Review 30(5): 1045-1058.

Image Credit: Shradha Parashari


ShradhaAbout the author:

Shradha Parashari is an ISS alumna of the 2017-18  MA batch and a Research Associate at Energy Policy Institute at University of Chicago-India. This blog is concerned with the author’s award-winning research that was conducted under supervision of Professor Arjun Singh Bedi and Professor Matthias Rieger.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Religion within development, or development within religion? by Fernande Pool

Religion should not be considered one among many wellbeing dimensions that development enables people to engage in, but one among many ontological sources that enables people to engage in development, Fernande Pool, postdoctoral researcher at the ISS, argues. A truly inclusive and respectful dialogue on development would go beyond a secular/religious binary and allow for alternative sources and conceptualisations, whether embedded in religious or non-religious sources.


What is the place of religion in development? Since the 1970s, development practitioners and theorists have gone ‘beyond GDP’ to describe people’s wellbeing. Committed to value-driven, human development, they have started to pay attention to religion. In human development, religion is no longer merely considered an obstruction to, or instrumental to, development, but itself is a valuable part of wellbeing. Yet, if religion is regarded as one dimension of wellbeing, the development framework usually remains secular, whereas this does not align with the lived reality everywhere. So I argue that we still need a cognitive turn.

Engaging development through religion

My contribution is based on two years of ethnographic research with devout Muslims in an Indian village I call Joygram. I suggest that religion should, when appropriate, not (only) be considered a sub-category of development—something development allows people to engage in. Instead, it can form the basis from which to engage with development to begin with. Human development implies some normative ideas of what being human means and what kind of society would allow one to be ‘more human’.

For the research participants, notions of what being human means, and the ethical freedom to discuss these normative ideas, are embedded in the Islamic dharma. To approach religion as a sub-category in an otherwise secular development framework excludes these religious life experiences and ideas from the outset. The scope of this blog is merely to show how different ontological notions underpinning human development can be, and that a proper understanding of these differences requires a cognitive turn.

Including different ontologies

A next question to ask would be: if secular and religious ideas of being would be considered as equally valid in an inclusive dialogue on worthwhile development, would development interventions be not only morally better as a process but also better in terms of their outcomes? A brief example from Joygram seems to suggest so.

In Joygram, the values driving development, including conceptualisations of the human person, life, and society as mentioned above, are embedded in what I call the Islamic dharma: the locally specific, all-encompassing ethics of justice and order to which religion—in this case Islam—is integral. Muslims in Joygram foster a dynamic concept of the human as emerging from divine submission and constant interactions within social networks. First, humanity emerges from the acknowledgment of the eternal indebtedness to the creator-god for the gift of life. Subsequently, the being is made a ‘human person’ through exchanges within a network of social relationships.

So, Joygramis believe that relationality comes into existence before the individual. This doesn’t take away, however, that every person has a right to the same human dignity. It is just that the human is conceptualised differently from, for instance, the human as a sovereign individual in most liberal theories. What it means to be human is deeply embedded in dharma, which includes religion. So without the notion of dharma as the basis for dialogue, one cannot even begin to talk about humans, let alone human development. Indeed, outside dharma, there is no humanity, because there are no values. So, if development in Joygram is to be worthwhile, it has to be embedded in dharma, too. Development dialogues outside the space of dharma would be reduced to purely technocratic and instrumental measures.

The need for a cognitive turn

A dialogue on development that would include and respect the Islamic dharma would require a cognitive turn, otherwise the starting position of a discussion is still within the hegemonic secular ontology. This is not unlike the cognitive turn required to shift the focus from GDP to individual capabilities. Perhaps development should not merely take religious values into account, or enable or liberate people to engage in religion. A development dialogue could be more inclusive if it acknowledges that the entire meaning of the world, the human, and key values like freedom and dignity may be informed by religious ideas and experiences. This means allowing for alternative conceptualisations of being human, but also of autonomy, relationships, and so on.

This does not mean, however, that universal values have to be discarded in favour of cultural relativism. It means, rather, that certain universal values or development goals, such as Martha Nussbaum’s list of basic capabilities, may be pursued on the basis of different ontological grounds. The Joygrami worldview and Nussbaum’s capability approach are not incompatible, even if they are based on different notions of what being human means. Yet in Joygram, the capabilities would be striven after within dharma, not as side by side with dharma, because then they would lose their ultimate value.

I reiterate that religion is more a complex social phenomenon than a static and compartmentalised set of norms and symbols, and dynamic religious ideas of being and sociality interact with ideas of being and sociality outside of that discreet religion—if there ever was one. Religions constantly change, partly because of those interactions, but also because of internal reasoning. Moreover, religion is nothing special, yet central: it seems likely that every human being lives with ideas of being and sociality, whether consciously or not, and there are always elements that transcend everyday life, whether directly associated with a particular religion or not. A truly inclusive and respectful dialogue on development would go beyond a secular/religious binary and allow for alternative sources and conceptualisations, whether embedded in religious or non-religious sources.


Image Credit: Jorge Royan / http://www.royan.com.ar / CC BY-SA 3.0


About the author:

Picture-d5a9-41db-ab99-ac23fa465eb8.jpgFernande Pool is a Marie Skłodowksa Curie “Leading” Fellow at ISS. Her current ethnographic research with Muslims in the Netherlands aims to destabilise hegemonic conceptualisations of religion and secularism, wellbeing and development. Her PhD thesis, completed in March 2016 at the London School of Economics anthropology department, explored the ethical life of Muslims in West Bengal, India. She is the co-founder and co-director of Lived Religion Project and AltVisions

 

 

Development Dialogue 2018 | Do children entering preschool early develop more quickly? by Saikat Ghosh and Subhasish Dey

Despite fierce debate among scholars regarding the age at which children are ready to enter preschool, the issue remains contentious. This article based on an empirical footing argues that earlier preschool entry is better for children living in developing countries like India, as it can help to ‘level the playing field.’


ENTRY AGE: A LONG-DEBATED ISSUE

There is considerable debate regarding the age at which children are ready to enter preschool. However, scholars seem not to have been able to reach any conclusion regarding the link between children’s development and schooling age. There are two principal views on this issue that shape the age-of-entry debate both at the policy and practice level: First, entry with maturity, and, second, entry followed by maturity.

The first view is a maturational point of view that expects the child to be mature and ready for school. Reaching only a specific age does not ensure that a child is ready for school, nor does it guarantee a specific level of development. The conventional wisdom is that older children are more likely to have the necessary skills and maturity to succeed in school and therefore learn more in each grade (Cmic & Lamberty 1994; Krauerz 2005; Graue & DiPema 2000). Therefore, advocates of maturational view propose a delay in entrance to kindergarten for a child who is not ready, and such delay gives the child an extra year to become developmentally ready. This trend was described by the phrase “graying of kindergarten” (Bracey 1989), which is recently known as “redshirting” (Katz, 2000).

On the other hand, people holding the alternative view believe that the only determining factor for entry into kindergarten should be chronological age. This entry criterion is exogenous and less susceptible to cultural or social biases (Brent et al. 1996; Kagan, 1990; Stipek 2002). Besides, development is uneven and multidimensional, and thus, a threshold cannot be identified, as children’s level of development varies across different dimensions and children are not likely to achieve the level considered important for school success in all domains at the same time (Stipek 2002: 4).

Yet, very little is known in the context of developing countries, and whether the variation in the age of entry in preschool has any impact on children’s later development is still an open question. The authors took the initiative[1] to explore the same debate in the Indian context. As children from developing countries like India face several challenges from the very beginning, therefore, it is utterly significant to examine whether early entry in preschool provides them with an edge.

DOES AGE OF ENTRY MATTER?

The answer in this context is yes, it matters, and it is evident form the study that the age of entry into preschool is utterly significant for children’s later development. Empirical evidence indicates that early entry into preschool may help children to acquire better cognitive and socio-emotional skills. The study has also found significant variation in children’s development depending on their socioeconomic background viz. parents’ level of education, their ethnic origin, etc. Considering the socioeconomic and cultural background of Indian society (as reflected within the household and parents characteristics), the results suggest that early entry into preschool has significant effects both on social and cognitive development of the child at least after a one-year completion of primary education. Therefore, the study advocates in favour of early preschool entry which has been referred by the authors as ‘Green-Shirting’.

Considering children from developing countries, where various forms of inequalities are already present, several differences may exist between children of lower socio-economic status and those of higher socio-economic status even before they enter preschool. Therefore, it is particularly necessary to provide children with a strong foundation from the very beginning so that these early disadvantages can be tackled.

Early childhood education and care provisions can be important intervention for children’s development. For example, the publicly provided preschool education in India, known as the ‘Anganwadi Centre’, which is the predominant type of preschool in India, represents an important and an effective initiative in ensuring both the social and cognitive development of children in the later stage of their life. Early entry into preschool and therefore, longer preschool experiences, can help to ‘level the field.’

[1] The study on which this article is based was carried out by the authors in India and is based on a primary data of 1,369 households. Ten different parameters were used to measure children’s development, which was further disentangled into cognitive and social development.

References
Bracey, G. (1989). Age and achievement. Phi Delta Kappan, 70(9): 732.
Brent, D., D. May & D. Kundert (1996) ‘The incidence of delayed school entry: A twelve-year review’, Early Education Development 7(2):121-135.
Cmic, K. & G. Larnberty (1994) ‘Reconsidering school readiness’, Early Education and Development 5(2): 91- 105.
Graue, E. & J. DiPerna (2000). Redshirting and early retention: Who gets the gift of time and what are its outcomes?. American Educational Research Journal, 37(2): 509-534.
Kagan, S. L. (1990). Readiness past, present and future: Shaping the agenda. Young Children 48(1): 48-53.
Katz, L. (2000). Academic redshirting and young children. ERIC. Washington, DC, Office of Education Research and Improvement.
Krauerz, K. (2005). Straddling early learning and early elementary school. Journal of the National Association for the Education of Young Children 64(3): 50-58.
Stipek, D. (2002). At what age should children enter kindergarten? A question for policy makers and parents. SRCD Social Policy Report 16(2): 3-16.

This blog article is part of a series related to the Development Dialogue 2018 Conference that was recently held at the ISS.


About the authors:ghosh

Dr. Saikat Ghosh has recently received his doctorate from the University of Bamberg, Germany. His research interest centres on poverty, education, inequality, and social policy analysis with particular focus on developing countries. Formerly, he has worked for the Bamberg Graduate School of Social Sciences (BAGSS), Germany, and UNU-WIDER, Helsinki. He also served the Government of West Bengal, India for six years between 2007 to 2013.

deyDr. Subhasish Dey is an Associate Lecturer at the Economics Department of University of York, UK. He is an applied microecometrician working in the field of development and political economy. He completed his PhD in Economics from University of Manchester in 2016. His research interests include social protection programme, impact evaluation of social policies, electoral politics, affirmative action and routine immunisation. He served government of West Bengal for five years between 2003 and 2008 in education and Panchyat and rural development departments.