|
Synopsis Gap between intention and reality under the spotlight This issue reflects the first results of a major research project designed to probe the gap between policy-making and implementation. Thabo Rapoo sets out the background to the project, and explains its objectives Since 1994 policy-making in South Africa has become more inclusive, democratic, and participatory. As a result, it has become fairly common for those in authority to assume that policies formulated by the current government will always be implementable, and will always meet the needs of potential beneficiaries. However, analysts agree that, despite the relatively sophisticated policy-making mechanisms and the flurry of white papers, green papers and legislation, the government has not succeeded in realising many of its major objectives. Why is this so? What are the major constraints on the implementation of government policy, and what can be done to eliminate or at least reduce them? These issues are crucial to South Africa's future, but have not been thoroughly researched. The CPS is conducting a major study, funded by the European Union, designed to fill this vacuum. Entitled 'Closing the gap between policy-making and implementation', the three-year project is aimed at reaching a better understanding of the gap between official intentions and actual outcomes - particularly the difficulties being experienced by agencies implementing government policies and programmes on the ground - and to identify ways of overcoming them. Detailed case studies are being conducted on the Growth, Employment and Reconstruction (GEAR) strategy, the Reconstruction and Development Programme (RDP), the National Crime Prevention Strategy (NCPS), and the four sectors of Justice, Health, Education, and Water Affairs. These areas and sectors were selected because they typify key aspects of the process of implementation, viz intersectoral co-ordination (GEAR, the RDP and NCPS); national policy-making and national implementation ( the NCPS, Justice and Water Affairs); and national policy-making and provincial implementation (Education and Health). The results of the study will be released in a series of publications that will hopefully contribute towards more effective policy implementation in South Africa, and service delivery to its citizens. This issue of Synopsis reflects progress made during the earlier phases of the study, notably the research team's efforts to identify the problems experienced in the various sectors under review. The issues raised in these articles have informed the current stage of research, which will hopefully yield important insights into ways in which these problems can be overcome. Thabo Rapoo is a CPS policy analyst, and manager of this project. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- MACRO-ECONOMIC POLICY - Why GEAR is not delivering growth and jobs Why are South Africa's macro-economic policies not delivering more growth and jobs? Xolela Mangcu argues that the theoretical assumptions underlying those policies need to be examined - and concludes that they are flawed South Africa's macro-economic Growth, Employment and Redistribution (GEAR) strategy is underpinned by a three-part syllogism. It proceeds as follows: the government should implement a set of structural adjustment policies (low budget deficits, privatisation of state assets, relaxation of labour laws, competitive exchange rates, low inflation, etc); this will attract foreign investment; and this, in turn, will lead to higher economic growth rates and employment levels. The policy question that should be asked is whether the relationship among these variables is as automatic as it has been made out to be. To be more precise, do the structural adjustments listed earlier really produce the desired results of increased foreign direct investment (FDI), and does FDI really yield the desired economic growth and job creation? And if they don't, why does South Africa persist with these policies? Intellectual foundations These questions are central to examining the gap between South Africa's macro-economic policies and their implementation. However, in doing so GEAR's intellectual foundations must first be examined. Any investigation of the gap between intent and implementation in economic policy must necessarily address the theoretical assumptions underlying those policies; it may well be that implementation is hampered by flaws in the intellectual foundations, assumptions and hypotheses on which economic policy is built. As Nicoli Nattrass has put it: 'The integrity of the GEAR model depends almost entirely on a guess as to how much investment is likely to be induced (from domestic and foreign sources) as a result of the implementation of the government's new macro-economic strategy... the model rests on a leap of faith - a wild guess about how investors are going to respond.'(1) Each part of the syllogism will now be examined in turn. As regards the first, it can be demonstrated that the government has been fairly successful in getting prices right. According to Stephen Gelb, changes in prices (interest, inflation, exchange and wage rates) 'can be implemented through fairly straightforward administrative processes by those with authority over government finances'.(2) And, true enough, interest rates have come down from 25,5 per cent during the Asian crisis to current levels of 14,5 per cent; the inflation rate has declined from 9 per cent in 1994 to 3,37 per cent in 2000 and is now targeted at between 3 per cent and 6 per cent; and the budget deficit has been reduced from 5,5 per cent of GDP in 1994 to 2,3 per cent of GDP in 1999. Net outflows However, while the government's self-inflicted structural adjustment programmes have been relatively successful, the record in respect of the second part of the syllogism, ie attracting FDI, has been less encouraging. There were net outflows of FDI between 1994 and 1996. Then, FDI reached a peak of near R6,8 billion in 1997 before declining to R1,6 billion in 1999. Even the temporary rise in FDI in 1997 had more to do with the privatisation of Telkom than with any expansion of productive capacity. This has led to the minister of finance, Trevor Manuel, complaining that even when South Africa has done all it could to put its financial house in order, investments have still not been forthcoming. The relationship between structural adjustment policies and expected outcomes becomes even more elusive in respect of the third part of the syllogism, where none of the policy intentions of increased growth and employment has borne fruit. Growth projections have been revised down from 6 per cent in the GEAR document to about 3 per cent in Manuel's most recent budget speech. The job situation is even more disastrous; the economy has shed about 1 million jobs since 1990, and about 500 000 since 1994. Causality misread But why does South Africa persist with these policies if they are not yielding the desired outcomes? After all, even the World Bank admits that they have done little to address poverty and joblessness. There are at least two reasons for this: one economic, and the other political. From an economic perspective, the government seems to have misread the causality between foreign investments and domestic growth. Contrary to current economic orthodoxy in this country, which includes embracing the structural adjustments mentioned above, international evidence shows that it is domestic growth that spurs foreign direct investment, and not the other way round. Multinationals are attracted to already growing and profitable economies. Moreover, the impact of trade and FDI on growth and employment is usually very weak. In his book Pop internationalism, Paul Krugman demonstrates that most economic activity takes place within countries, not between them. For instance, in the United States only one eighth of output is traded, while two thirds of added value consist of non-tradeable goods and services: 'The level of employment is a macro-economic issue,' he writes, 'depending in the short run on aggregate demand and in the long run on the natural rate of unemployment. Aggregate demand in turn depends on a combination of consumption, investment, government expenditures, and exports.'(3) Or, as Samuel Bowles and Herbert Gintis put it: 'The process of investment is still primarily national: the vast majority of investment in every country is of domestic origin.'(4) It can be argued, as do the proponents of GEAR, that it is the lack of domestic savings that leads to an emphasis on FDI. But Dani Rodrik argues that 'low levels of savings per se are not a significant obstacle to growth: household and corporate savings rates typically arise as profitable investment opportunities are exploited'.(5) What about the much-vaunted role of exports in stimulating growth and employment? Rodrik argues that in the case of Africa trade plays a small role compared to macro-economic management and human resource development; while domestic growth leads to exports, exports don't necessarily lead to growth. What happens is that those companies that are productive in the domestic market tend to self-select and enter the more lucrative export markets (hence the correlation between high domestic growth rates and exports). This again reverses the causality - ie, instead of assuming that export industries spur growth, the evidence is that domestic growth spurs exports.(6) Export orientation is linked to domestic production in other ways as well. Most of the discussion of exports in South Africa proceeds as if exports are an end in themselves. The argument goes something like this: if you get the exchange rate right, your exports will enable you to pay for your imports, which will in turn lead to lower prices and lower levels of inflation. But this is the wrong way of looking at why exports are important, and can have the unintended effect of destroying instead of creating jobs. New technologies Exports are nothing but the means to buy inputs for growing domestic production. The aim of imports should not just be to reduce consumer prices, but to allow investments in new technologies so as to lower domestic costs and reduce consumer prices as well. The idea behind trade promotion should not be to replace existing industries by importing finished consumer goods, but to use exports to expand domestic investment and employment. In this perspective, exports become part of a strategy for spurring domestic growth. From a policy perspective this means that the focus should be on labour-intensive FDI. However, as Nattrass points out, South African exports are becoming relatively less labour-intensive and more skills-intensive, despite GEAR projections of increasing labour-intensity. This has to do with sectoral shifts from food and textile production towards the more capital-intensive chemical, iron and steel industries. Even more worrying is the fact that the decline in labour-intensivity in exports has been accompanied by the increased imports of labour-intensive products such as clothing, footwear and cars. The implications are that the job losses in exports are not compensated for, but actually worsened, by the import of finished consumer products. As Nattrass puts it: 'This does not bode well for the prospects of expanding low-wage employment for currently unskilled unemployed people.'(7) This discussion of exports shows that an export-led strategy should not be followed simply because exports bring about growth; instead, export-led strategies should be pursued on the back of domestic productivity and job creation strategies. This minimises the chances that special interests will usurp the policy process simply on the basis that they are in the export business, irrespective of their domestic productivity, comparative advantage, or contribution to employment. Global implications By why would a government pursue intellectually flawed policies? The explanation lies in that venerable variable in policy: politics. The government's economic strategy is backed by the most powerful financial institutions and personalities in the world: the World Bank, the IMF, and Wall Street. Unlike other policy areas, where a lot less is at stake, GEAR is a high-stakes political issue that has global financial ramifications. From the outset, its formulation was insulated from outside pressure groups that might have sought more attention to social spending. And for these reasons, GEAR is unlikely to be amended unless this is necessitated by social unrest. Political risk While it is important to get prices right, foreign investors are often driven by a whole host of considerations including social stability, market size, and returns on private investment. But even with these factors in place, negative investor perceptions of political risk have a far greater effect on foreign investors than structural adjustment programmes. Thus Rodrick identifies conflict resolution and a stable political climate as one of the major determinants of economic growth. Thus the important thing is to first grow the domestic economy and ensure returns to investors within a stable, democratic, peaceful political culture. In this respect, economics is as much about getting the policies right as getting the politics right. Dr Xolela Mangcu is a CPS policy analyst. Endnotes Nicoli Nattrass, Growth, employment and economic policy
in South Africa: a critical review, Johannesburg: Centre for Development
and Enterprise, 1998, pp 42-3. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- RECONSTRUCTION AND DEVELOPMENT - Failure of RDP office holds important governance lessons Does the RDP survive, or has it been replaced by GEAR? Whatever the truth, it is clear that the RDP office was an early, failed, attempt at co-ordinating government activities. The reasons for this failure, writes Claude Kabemba, may help us to understand co-ordination as a governance problem The RDP was meant to ensure that all government departments worked towards a common goal.(1) In essence, the intention was to use the allocation of government spending to achieve this; a portion of the budgets of line ministries was withdrawn and reallocated to an RDP fund to which departments could apply if they wished to undertake development-oriented projects. Thus the white paper on the RDP stated: 'In effect, therefore, the RDP Fund consists of funds which have been removed from departmental allocations and can be reassigned to them subject to compliance with the new priorities.'(2) This was a response to the key co-ordination problem: why would departments, faced with pressing problems of their own, co-operate with other parts of government without a strong incentive to do so? While the fund may have been intended as an interim solution until line departments could integrate RDP activities into their routine, it sought to create an early 'carrot' to entice departments to change their approach. But the strategy failed. First, the office's leverage over line departments had the unintended effect of alienating them rather than encouraging co-operation. Second, the RDP office's insistence on overly rigorous project approval systems and criteria meant that funds were not released speedily: it built up substantial rollovers, and was eventually forced on a capital-intensive path of delivery through the Municipal Infrastructure Programme before it was closed. Its attempt to co-ordinate activities alienated line departments; the fact that funds did not flow freely to them meant that resentment was not balanced by an effective incentive to co-operate. An unforeseen consequence of the arrangement was to pit the RDP office against the line ministries and to give it a workload it could not handle. The office came to be seen as centralist, and an unnecessary hurdle for line departments in implementing their tasks.(3) Its influence on departments' spending patterns also encroached on the planning and budgeting functions of the finance ministry.(4) The tension between line departments and the RDP office created a struggle as the national power of the latter over the former increased. The result was much irritation towards the RDP office from departments, which may have hastened the former's demise. Lack of capacity The hope that the RDP office would transform the public service proved wildly optimistic: its impact was felt directly only at the top of most departments. While some blame this on the influence of civil servants used to apartheid-era ways of operating, this was presumably part of what the RDP office was meant to address. But the prospect of project funding proved inadequate to change cultures in line departments. Delivery was also meant to begin before detailed policy was developed; the infrastructure for implementation, as well as division of responsibilities in departments, was not yet clear. Policy documents emerging from line departments were therefore framed against a background of institutional flux. And there was a lack of capacity among the office's staff; most had little experience in government or project management. Co-ordination between the RDP office and provincial equivalents was also lacking. Provinces established their own structures, which, in trying to emulate the national RDP offices, acted as political co-ordinators rather than implementing units. There was an apparent lack of contact between the national and provincial RDP units. And while the heads of RDP institutions had quasi-cabinet status in some provinces, there was no legal basis for this, and provincial RDP structures lacked the power to implement the programme. The problem in local government was more severe. As the RDP evolved, it increasingly emphasised local infrastructure delivery. Local government was also identified as the cornerstone of the RDP's intention to meet basic human needs. But the pilot projects initiated at this level ran into difficulties as local governments faced a triple crisis of a lack of legitimacy, resources, and administrative capacity. Whether the RDP still exists or not impacts on the fundamental question: was it a success? One view insists that GEAR and the RDP are fundamentally different, and that the RDP has thus been replaced by GEAR as the pillar of government policy. The closure of the RDP office is seen as evidence. The government insists that the RDP is still policy, and that shifts in emphasis are not necessarily departures from it - it maintains that it has operationalised the RDP through its Medium-Term Expenditure Framework (MTEF). In this view the RDP base document, green and white paper, MTEF, and GEAR are all significant outputs of the RDP policy process. Finance minister Trevor Manuel, among others, emphasises that the RDP and GEAR are strongly related, and that the GEAR document was a necessary addition to the RDP, even if its content and emphasis were somewhat different.(5) Nevertheless, when the RDP office was closed the RDP lost the institution which was most active in promoting adherence to it. And GEAR does strongly advocate change to a competitive, outward-oriented economy and cuts in state spending, whereas the RDP was more interventionist. The shift is obvious: research is needed into the precise reasons for this, and the alliance politics that enabled it. But poor economic growth with slow RDP delivery was quoted by an insider as the reasons for the establishment in 1995 of a cabinet committee to recommend the macro-economic approach that ultimately led to GEAR.(6) So, while shifts in thinking on the requirements for growth may have played a key role in reducing the priority given the RDP, so too did the office's failure to achieve RDP goals. Unfulfilled promise The key reason for this, our analysis suggests, was the belief that establishing an office separate from government departments with a mandate to co-ordinate them would have the desired effect. In contrast to, say, an interdepartmental committee, the RDP office was alien to departments, and therefore seen as an imposition. Similarly, RDP office staff's desire to impose strict implementation criteria on departments meant that the sole incentive to co-operate, the prospect of project funds, remained an unfulfilled promise. Stripped of its jargon, co-ordination is simply a matter of getting people to work together. The RDP office clearly failed to do this. Lack of capacity played a role; so, perhaps, did the fact that departments were not part of RDP office decision-making and so saw it as a source of control rather than of joint planning. But it could also be seen as evidence that working together cannot be achieved by creating an office or department that entices or instructs co-operation. Rather, incentives for co-operation need to be created and integrated into the rewards officials receive, and the sanctions they incur for not doing so. Claude Kabemba is a CPS policy analyst. Endnotes See African National Congress, Reconstruction and Development
Programme (Johannesburg: Umanyano, 1994), 6.5.3; see also SA government,
White paper on the Reconstruction and Development Programme, 1994, 14.1.1.,4.1.2.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EDUCATION - Decentralisation is not the cure-all its planners imagine Decentralisation has become a major component of attempts to level the educational playing field. However, Caroline Kihato argues that this may work to entrench old disparities rather than reduce them The notions of 'redress' and 'equity' have become common parlance in democratic South Africa, and efforts to reduce the resource and privilege gap created by apartheid have been at the forefront of the ANC-led government's development policy. Policy documents on housing, health, land, service provision and education often cite 'levelling the playing fields', 'ensuring equitable resource allocation', and 'compensating communities for the imbalances and injustices created by apartheid' as crucial to bridging the ubiquitous gap between rich and poor. Goals of redress and equity are so clearly expressed that, following the historic achievement of universal franchise, they have become the most important objectives of this young democracy. Analysts agree that reducing South Africa's huge socio-economic disparities is crucial not only to maintaining political legitimacy but also to 'liberating' the majority from economic oppression. However, how socio-economic liberation is to be achieved remains contentious, and the jury is still out on whether government policies are indeed fostering equity and redress on the scale expected by the poor. This article examines progress made in realising these objectives in the education sector. In particular, it examines attempts to decentralise school governance and financial management. The notion of decentralisation has become a key strategy for achieving developmental goals. It has become de rigueur in development discourse, to the point that it is almost regarded as a panacea for governance problems and goals. However, it is argued here that, rather than achieving the prized objectives of equity and redress, attempts to decentralise school governance may in fact entrench apartheid inequalities. Flowing from this, it argues that decentralisation does not automatically guarantee outcomes such as efficiency, efficacy, or even the participation or empowerment of citizens. Moreover, in a country marked by huge socio-economic disparities, such as South Africa, it may worsen rather than reduce old disparities. Uniform framework For the first time in South Africa, the current government has developed policy to achieve a single, non-racial education system. Nineteen education administrations were created under apartheid, and one of the first challenges that faced the democratic government was to integrate the separate administrations into one coherent administration and develop a uniform framework across racial, geographical, political, social and economic divides. At the heart of South Africa's education policy is an attempt to decentralise control over schools and promote the autonomy of schools at the local level. The second white paper on education, which establishes the policy framework for decentralisation, describes its objectives as: ' ... [to] create the conditions for developing a coherent, integrated, flexible national system which advances redress, equitable use of public resources, an improvement in educational quality across the system, democratic governance, and school-based decision making within provincial guidelines.'(1) Many justifications are given for decentralising education. In the literature it is generally argued that decentralisation paves the way for greater responsiveness to local needs. As decentralisation is said to empower people at the local level, it is assumed that they make the right decisions because they are in touch with local dynamics, needs and priorities. Similarly, if the decisions made are appropriate to the local context, it is assumed that they will improve the general quality of education. Besides this, it is argued that decentralised education systems are more flexible, as they are more adaptable to changing local contexts. Conversely, it is argued that decisions taken by a remote centre which is, more often than not, physically distant from beneficiaries of the policy and lacks a firm grasp of the local context are more likely to be inappropriate than those made by decentralised structures. Proponents of decentralisation argue further that this approach improves managerial efficiency. Devolving decision-making to smaller units and catering for smaller constituencies implies that decisions can be taken quicker, as lines of communication are shorter, resulting in shorter response times than those delivered by highly centralised bureaucracies. Politically, decentralisation can be used to ensure the protection of small minority groups. No guarantees But there are no guarantees that decentralisation will have any or all of these effects. Decentralising the education or any other system does not automatically deliver greater efficiency or responsiveness, or better quality. This is because decentralisation creates the conditions or enhances the potential for these factors to occur, but does not inherently possess them. Conversely, centralised systems can also be efficient and responsive, but this is more difficult to achieve as they do not readily lend themselves to these outcomes. Furthermore, the call for decentralising education is frequently made uncritically. Decentralisation policies in developing countries are often driven by pressures from external donors such as the IMF and World Bank, and thus become a premium paid for much-needed aid. The motivation for decentralisation then becomes questionable; is it recognised as essential in itself, or is it employed as a means to get aid? Attaching an aid 'reward' to decentralisation initiatives may well result in its uncritical implementation. Little or no attention is given to how they can best be tailored to the context in which they are implemented. When decentralisation is attached to promises of aid, the primary attraction becomes the aid, not the process and potential benefits of decentralisation. It thus becomes a means to an end, not an end in itself. Yet, even if the benefits of decentralisation are guaranteed, another, perhaps more important, question is raised: can decentralised systems realise the highly sought after values of redistribution and equity? The answer is not encouraging; while decentralised systems may allow local governing bodies to make decisions, they tend to worsen rather than eliminate existing disparities in resources. This is because decentralisation tends to isolate and fragment the various units or components involved, leaving them to draw on their own resources. Conversely, centralised systems are more amenable to reducing regional disparities because a central authority is able to draw financial and human resources from well-resourced regions and invest them in poorer areas. This is precisely why the ANC favours megacity structures - it argues that a centralised system is better able to redistribute wealth and create a more equitable urban space. Regional inequalities But again, there is no guarantee that equitable distribution will result just because a centralised system is in place. Attaining this objective will also require political will and appropriate administrative mechanisms. Already, in education, renewed regional inequalities have begun to show. Governing bodies comprising parents, teachers, secondary school learners, non-teaching staff, members of the community, and principals as ex officio members, are responsible for determining school policy. However, their powers are pegged to their levels of capacity. In other words, before the provincial head of department can decentralise powers to governing bodies, s/he needs to ensure that the bodies involved are capable of performing those functions. This procedure is essential as it guards against overloading governing bodies with tasks they are unable to handle. However, it implies that governing structures with capacity problems - many of which are located in disadvantaged areas - may have fewer powers than those elsewhere that have more capacity. Power imbalances Power imbalances are thus created between schools that have active, well-resourced governing bodies, and schools that have poorly organised, underresourced ones. Governing bodies of well-resourced (largely historically advantaged) schools possess not only the funds but also the financial, legal, administrative, fund-raising, and managerial skills needed to run an effective institution. In poorer schools, governing bodies not only face financial constraints but logistical ones as well. In rural areas particularly, members are often unable to attend meetings because of the distance and costs involved, because they are unable to get time off work, or for safety reasons. Factors such as illiteracy, a lack of knowledge of government policies, and poor organisation also create barriers to establishing strong governing structures. The same mechanisms play themselves out in the financial field as well. The new school funding policy has been widely welcomed because it attempts to address the imbalances between previously privileged and historically disadvantaged schools. Via provincial allocations, the department attempts to link funding to schools' needs and also the levels of poverty in the surrounding community. In addition, fee structures are based on a sliding scale that require wealthier households to contribute more than poorer ones. Further, the norms and standards spelled out in the white paper also require that provinces reduce their personnel costs, allowing them to increase their contributions towards 'levelling the playing fields'. Under the new funding system, local disparities may even out but regional ones may continue. As wealthier households subsidise poorer ones, more equity may be achieved at the local level. However, provinces that have inherited the bulk of historically disadvantaged households, namely Northern Province and Eastern Cape, inevitably have a larger lower-paying population than better off provinces. So while the system may iron out local disparities, provincial ones may continue to prevail. Similarly, provinces will require massive capacity to implement the funding norms and standards. They require extensive information on each school and its social context. Inter alia, this means that they will have to maintain extensive databases as well as the expertise to analyse the relevant information and link it to the funding allocations. These are complex tasks, and it is questionable whether all the provinces have the capacity to implement this. Huge task Similarly, provinces are responsible for allocating functions to governing bodies depending on their capacity. This has implications for provincial administrations, as they will need to determine the capacity of the governing body of every school in order to exercise this function. This is a huge task, requiring extensive resources. Here again the efficacy of the system hinges on provincial capacity, and disparities between the provinces will tend to exacerbate inequalities. As in any political environment, South Africa's democratic government is constantly negotiating, making trade-offs, and prioritising needs. In a highly complex and changing environment, it has had to devise strategies that best meet its political goals. One of the biggest challenges it faces is to reduce the skewed distribution of resources entrenched by apartheid. Given the importance of redress and equity, and the significance of progressing towards these objectives in the new political era, it is imperative for the government to devise systems that ensure that inequalities are addressed. Although creating certain administrative systems alone will not necessarily achieve the desired outcome, centralised systems lend themselves more easily to redistribution. Yet decentralised systems also have their advantages, and empowering local 'communities' to make decisions that affect their wellbeing is one of them. Thus initial research in the education arena indicates that a system is needed that continues to give local communities a stake in decision-making, but does not inhibit the elimination of apartheid inequalities. But this is easier to say in theory than to achieve in practice, and presents policy practitioners with a thorny dilemma. Caroline Kihato is a CPS policy analyst. Endnotes Department of Education, Education white paper no 2: The organisation, governance and funding of schools, Notice 130 of 1996, Pretoria. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- HEALTH CARE - Unused clinics testify to lack of co-ordination The ANC government formulated lofty new ideals for the health arena; however, they have only been partially achieved. Mcebisi Ndletyana identifies three causal factors While post-apartheid health policies have borne some fruit, they have fallen short of achieving the government's stated goals. A close look at how they have been implemented reveals three major reasons for this. Firstly, the formulation of health policies has not been well co-ordinated with other government departments. As a result, they do not take account of conditions in other sectors which, though not directly health-related, have a bearing on their efficacy. Secondly, health policies are largely technically driven and do not take social dynamics in the sector into account. Thirdly, policy-making has been too centralised, with too little attention paid to local concerns and conditions. In support of these assertions, this article will focus on three areas: the clinic building programme; patients' choice of public and private health services; and compulsory community service by medical interns. Preventive care The 1997 white paper on health committed the department to upgrading all existing public sector clinics, and building many more. This was done in line with the government's broad goal to reorient health services from curative to preventive care. Curative care mainly involves attending to the sick, and tends to be technology-intensive and hospital-based. By contrast, preventive care seeks to prevent illness via immunisation and other preventive measures, including educating people to adopt healthy lifestyles. In this approach, clinics - not hospitals - are at the centre of health care.(1) However, there were far too few clinics;(2) the 2 218 public sector clinics existing in 1994 served an average of about 16 000 people each. They were also unequally distributed; in 1994 there were seven beds for every 1 000 people in metropolitan areas, compared to 2,7 beds for every 1 000 people in rural areas.(3) Therefore, more clinics had to be built; the 1997 white paper estimated that 1 000 additional clinics were needed to meet current demand. During 1997 alone, 204 new clinics were built, 364 had residential units added, 38 were upgraded, and 53 mobile clinics were bought. By September 1998, 474 new clinics had been built and 212 upgraded.(4) Poor planning While this was a significant achievement, poor planning, exacerbated by a lack of co-ordination as well as sectarianism, inhibited their use. In some cases clinics were built without regard to the cost of supporting infrastructure, such as roads and electricity; supplies, such as drugs and equipment; and staffing. Consequently, some 115 of the 204 new clinics built in 1997 remained unused. This revealed a glaring lack of co-ordination and communication among various government agencies. Thus, in his opening speech to the second democratic parliament in June 1999, president Thabo Mbeki noted:
Social acceptability However, despite the availability of free public health care, 18,4 per cent and 40,1 per cent of poor rural and urban inhabitants respectively utilise private health care. This indicates that cost is not a significant determinant when choosing a health provider; rather, social acceptability is. A study published last year(7) shows that the choice of a health provider is determined by users' socially constructed perceptions of the efficacy and quality of the care provided. Payment, for instance, is associated with quality. As one respondent put it: 'You pay, therefore you get better service.'(8) The opposite is the case with public health care. According to one respondent, '... our children often have to make do with the medicines we receive from the [public] clinic, and that's the reason why they become seriously ill'.9 These are perceptions built on a flawed belief that any free medication is of poor quality. If it were good, the perception goes, why is it provided free of charge? The inefficiency of the public sector strengthens this perception. One respondent said: 'We are treated as if we are nothing. They have no way of talking to people ...' People ask themselves: why would public health workers, who do not care about patients, offer them good medication? On the contrary, the good service provided in the private sector creates perceptions that the treatment provided is equally good. Patients, according to respondents, are respected, enjoy privacy, and are thoroughly examined. Thus there is a clear correlation between quality of service and the efficacy of medication. What does this reveal about policy-making in the health sector? It shows that health policies are technically driven, and lack social context. Instead of assuming that technical truth equals social truth, policy-makers should consider people's perceptions. Regardless of what policy-makers think, members of the public have their own perceptions of health care; since these services are aimed at them, it is important that their truth be considered. Flawed as it may be, it is this truth that determines the acceptance of these services. What is required is for policy-makers to canvass people's views and educate them so as to debunk any misperceptions they may have. Community service The health sector suffers from an acute shortage of personnel. In 1998 the doctor-patient ratio in the public sector was 2,9:10 000. This is further exacerbated by the skewed distribution of doctors among provinces, between the public and private sector, and between rural and urban areas. While some provinces and the public sector are generally worse off, rural health facilities are particularly badly affected. In 1994 the doctor-patient ratio in rural areas was estimated at 1:30 000 in the former homeland areas, compared to 1:700 and 1:1 900 in metropolitan and non-metropolitan areas respectively. Doctors obviously prefer to work in private and urban health care facilities rather than public and rural ones. They choose urban health centres for a variety of reasons, ranging from a better social environment to access to better services and schools, and greater opportunities for career advancement.(10) Until 1998 the rural areas were serviced mostly by foreign doctors.(11) In an attempt to address the shortage of doctors in rural areas and the public sector in general, the government passed, in 1997, the Health Professions Amendment Act, which requires all medical graduates to complete a year of community service. In July 1998 the first cohort of 26 doctors started their community service, followed by a second of 1 088 in January 1999. Besides increasing the number of doctors, the aim of community service, according to the department, was to provide 'young doctors with an opportunity to develop skills, acquire knowledge, and develop behaviour patterns and critical thinking that will help them in their professional development'.(12) The scheme has produced mixed results. The shortage of doctors in some areas has been addressed, leading to improved services; patients are more appropriately diagnosed and treated; wards are less crowded, as patients are treated more quickly; patients do not wait in long queues; and, because interns visit clinics, fewer patients have to be sent to hospitals. Poor communication However, poor communication between the centre and local facilities and a lack of qualified doctors in other areas have hampered the programme. In the absence of qualified doctors, interns cannot be advised on how to deal with cases they may not be familiar with. Some doctors seem unsure of the role interns should play. Consequently, interns are left idling when they could be used elsewhere. A lack of supervision and minimal utilisation have also resulted in intellectual stagnation among interns. As one put it: 'The community is gaining, but we are suffering ... I am not learning anything new here: my clinical skills are stagnating.'(13) Therefore, while the mere availability of interns meet the immediate need for doctors in the public sector, the lack of intellectual growth is likely to have a detrimental effect on the public sector in the longer term. Given the already existing aversion to serving in the public sector, this experience may harden some interns against continuing to work in the public sector. Thus a lack of co-ordination, a technical bias, and the centralisation of planning are hampering the implementation of health policies. This has largely been caused by the politicisation of and elitism surrounding policy formulation. In the period before the 1994 election, and early in its reign, the ANC committed itself to achieving certain targets in the health sector without regard to the availability of resources and capacity.(14) Inevitably, this presented it with the unpalatable choice of premature and therefore flawed delivery, or not meeting those targets. Given popular expectations of a better life in the post-apartheid era, and the impending second democratic elections, the political implications of non-delivery was deemed to be too high; thus flawed delivery outweighed the option of non-delivery. Thus, despite poor preparation, certain projects - largely clinics, and community services to a limited extent - had to be implemented for the purpose of political expediency. This paid dividends in the 1999 elections; ANC politicians could point to clinics as a sign of progress; the problem is that many of them were empty. Coupled to this was the elitism surrounding policy formulation. Policy-makers drafted policies with very little input from below; they assumed their truth was the only one. Mcebisi Ndletyana is a CPS policy analyst. Endnotes ANC, A national health plan for South Africa, 1994, pp
48-9. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CRIME PREVENTION - Mission accomplished - or admission of failure? Four years ago the National Crime Prevention Strategy was heralded as a major initiative for preventing crime and enforcing the law; today, evidence suggests that it has been moved on to the back burner. Zondi Masiza traces the reasons The National Crime Prevention Strategy began life in 1996 amid high hopes that it would encourage government departments to work together to prevent as well as combat crime. But, while a recent confidential government review suggests that the NCPS is working as originally envisaged, and that most of its programmes are therefore being reassigned to the SA Police Service, critics suggest that it has been relegated to 'a small centre in one police division'.(1) If the NCPS has been downgraded, one reason could be a change in government priorities. The strategy assumed that crime could not be contained simply by law enforcement: a broader approach was needed which sought to prevent it, not simply act against it. Public pressure for action against crime has, in this view, prompted a return to a law enforcement approach. Changes in priorities do not necessary imply policy failure: the government's willingness to review NCPS operations reveals that to a certain degree policy implementers are 'reflective practitioners',(2) revising policy in response to experience and political circumstances. The government notes that, on crime prevention, it is constantly learning 'to ensure substantial improvements in the efficiency and effectiveness of service delivery...'(3) But, as with the RDP, the NCPS's fate may also reflect its failure to achieve its goal: to ensure that government departments as diverse as the SA Police Service and Department of National Welfare work together to prevent crime and enforce the law. The government review is of no help here: its confidentiality means that we know little about its reasons for turning the NCPS, originally a cross-cutting enterprise involving several departments and other actors, into a 'social crime prevention unit' in the SAPS crime prevention division. A firm conclusion will have to await research. However, literature-based evidence suggests that the NCPS may indeed have been a flawed attempt to deal with crime's roots rather than its manifestation. Shared vision Like other attempts at co-ordination, it envisaged harnessing government agencies - and civil society - behind a 'shared' vision. According to the original NCPS document, key government resources were to be mobilised in an integrated and harmonised manner. This would result in the departments transcending 'their functional parochialism and embrac[ing] the "one-stop shop" or "single window" approach to the implementation of the NCPS objectives'. The NCPS approach was, arguably, more appropriate than that of the RDP office because it envisaged government departments participating actively in planning as well as implementation: its implementers were to form an interdepartmental committee of representatives of the eight ministries(4) expected to implement it, and their directors-general formed a steering committee to oversee implementation of the strategy. This ostensibly avoided the danger that they would see it as an imposition. Initially, it was viewed positively by some commentators: '[it] is a promising initiative which...build[s] on the essence of co-operative governance.'(5) The 1998 Presidential Review Commission said much could be learnt from the NCPS model.(6) But co-ordination is more logical in theory than in practice. The PRC added: 'The NCPS re-engineering initiative could result in a significant reorganisation of departmental responsibilities if the senior managers associated with the key departments wholeheartedly embrace the concept [of inter-sectoral co-operative governance].' It expected this to'... occur if there is sufficient pressure from above to overcome departmental efforts to maintain their existing structures'.(7) This recognised an important obstacle to co-operation: experience shows that government departments invariably compete for resources. They are also reluctant to take on new functions when they are battling to address their immediate priorities. More generally, inter-agency co-operation invariably brings in its train problems such as bureaucratic infighting; misperception and miscommunication; and perceptions of traditional roles and functions.(8) The NCPS seems to have failed to overcome this. Some of its implementers complain that it concentrates too much on criminal justice system projects because departments prefer carrying out their 'core' functions: 'departments are in survival mode ... and [they] concentrate on their core functions. Crime is not the core function of education and welfare, so, for them, [NCPS head Bernie] Fanaroff is just an irritating distraction. He simply does not have the leverage to get what he wants.'(9) Critics thus insist that implementation has not worked out as planned. Departments have, in essence, continued to exercise their core functions only despite energetic attempts to co-ordinate them. One result in this view is that crime prevention has never been implemented because it requires departments to adopt new approaches which they see as a luxury they can ill afford. Lack of direction One reason may be the lack of clear political direction: it could be argued that senior officials would only embrace crime prevention if their ministers did. Initially, the office of then deputy president Thabo Mbeki was responsible for co-ordinating NCPS projects: supposedly designated officials were meant to champion the projects within the relevant departments. Later, the safety and security secretariat took over the planning, management and co-ordination of crime prevention activities. But the burden of ensuring co-ordination fell on officials rather than ministers; implementers may therefore not have seen implementation as a task expected by their ministers. The current practice of assigning co-ordination to a 'cluster' of ministers may thus be more appropriate. Ambitious strategy But the NCPS may have had other flaws that hampered implementation. From the outset it was clear that its goals were achievable only in the long term. Its ambitious four-pillar strategy comprised strengthening the criminal justice system; environmental design (creating public spaces less conducive to crime); community values and education; and strengthening South Africa's regional security. While the first could be seen as an activity in which short-term results could be achieved, changing values and re-engineering cities could not. Implementers were therefore expected to divert time from core activities to pursue goals which were unlikely to yield demonstrated success for some time. Some, such as the Integrated Justice System, which sought to enhance information flow between departments, were not only long-term but also unlikely to produce results for which direct credit could be claimed by implementers. And, while it identified priorities, these were wide: 20 programmes were devised to deal with priority crimes; implementers could not focus on a few, more manageable, activities. Nor did the NCPS document define crime prevention. Without a common understanding of this concept, the government could not avoid the dilution of NCPS objectives. Critics also suggest that the NCPS's national focus may have been a problem,(10) since crime prevention may be more effective, and more likely to produce visible results, at the local level. If this perception is accurate, co-ordination may have been a constraint since it encouraged a uniform national approach when a diverse local one would have been more appropriate. In sum, while the NCPS may have been a more appropriate attempt at co-ordination than the RDP, its ambition, the lack of political authority in its support, and its concentration on goals which were unlikely to yield results soon and provide incentives for implementers, may well have doomed it to become 'more ... an interdepartmental vision for crime reduction than a strategy document'.(11) Given that, its new status may be a tribute to implementers' willingness to review their actions and make adjustments where necessary. Given the importance of longer-term crime prevention, the key danger is that failure to implement the NCPS may become a rationale for ignoring the necessary vision which it proposed. Zondi Masiza is a CPS policy analyst. Endnotes Antoinette Louw, Tough choices?: reducing crime in South
Africa, in Steven Friedman (ed), The state of the 'miracle': South African
politics, economics and society in 2000 (working title; Pretoria: hsrc,
2000). -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- JUSTICE SYSTEM - Why the justice implemention gap is the largest of all Justice is an area of governance in which the gap between vision and reality is perhaps the widest. Libhongo Ntlokonkulu explores the issues
While part of the problem of low convictions lies elsewhere - including inexperienced detectives and inadequately trained police offers - resignations by prosecutors have contributed to backlogs in caseloads and reduced the chances of convictions as inexperienced replacements have faced senior defence advocates in criminal trials. Justice could therefore be seen as the area of governance in which the gap between a lofty vision - of a justice system able to implement a legal framework widely acclaimed as among the most rights-oriented in the world - and reality is perhaps the widest. One reason may simply be that the manifold and highly ambitious goals set by the department are not achievable, given the capacity available to it. But preliminary research suggests some specific factors which may have prevented the department from achieving its stated goal of protecting the rights of all. First, it has had to amalgamate 11 departments into one, and apply uniform standards and procedures. That has not been easy, for it has involved changing the mindsets of many. The department's task of promoting a human rights culture among its officials entails serving all people with dignity. This approach is new to many officials, and reorienting attempts have either not been taken seriously enough or not been implemented effectively enough. Second, the criminal justice system, more than any other part of government, depends on co-operation between its arms; the police, courts and prisons rely on each other for their success. The system is therefore a key illustration of the problems facing co-ordination in government: departments need to give priority to their own burning problems, and officials prefer to concentrate on areas with which they are most familiar and therefore comfortable; a weak commitment by the old bureaucracy in implementing the vision of the new leadership and limited resources and budgetary constraints also contribute. Co-ordination problems There are also co-ordination problems within the department. It would like to see the law consistently applied, but faces a lack of uniformity among magistrates in applying the new laws. Uniformity is lacking in sentencing too. The establishment of a single prosecutorial system headed by a national director of public prosecutions is meant to remedy this, but the lack of guidelines may lie at the root of the problem - the cure may thus be simpler than suggested. A key measure for introducing uniformity is legislation tightening bail provisions, the result of a public outcry over criminals receiving sentences seen not to fit the severity of violent crimes against women and children. The national directorate of public prosecutions has expressed shock at the reluctance of magistrates and judges to apply the law, and has argued that minimum sentences are a solution to the victimisation of vulnerable groups. But judges are said to be showing their disapproval of what they see as a threat to their discretion by doing their utmost to find mitigating circumstances. This tests the independence of the judiciary weighed against its accountability to the society. Critics such as Martin Schonteich(5) argue that strict bail conditions have simply increased the number of awaiting-trial prisoners, providing another gap between intention and reality. Minimum sentencing legislation, like the bail laws, may also reflect a lack of insight into crime-fighting realities. They apply only to those prosecuted, and are seen by critics as an ineffective response to the justice system's failure to bring criminals to book and the department's failure to educate judicial officers on sentencing. Central challenge One central challenge facing the department is the relationship between legitimacy - partly sought through changing its racial and gender composition - and effectiveness. On the one hand, the two are linked. As long as the judiciary is seen to be unrepresentative, it may be perceived as biased. White magistrates and judges predominate. The only court that can claim some degree of representativeness, although it still has a white male majority (four judges are black and two are women, one of whom is also black), is the constitutional court. The department has sought to address this by introducing new requirements for entrance to the legal profession such as scrapping Latin, English and Afrikaans as a requirement for a law degree, and introducing a new four-year degree in place of the LLB. On the other, court officers do require experience that new entrants lack. This has been eroded by the failure to retain many prosecutors; practical training is needed to balance the theory offered at law schools. The proposed placement of graduates at law firms shows good intentions on the department's part, but firms insist that they have limited room to take on black graduates as interns, hindering the attempt to attain equity in the profession. Legitimacy also requires new relations with citizens, many of whom seem to lack trust in the justice system, which has a mandate to build self-respect, pride and dignity by providing equal justice to all. The local interface of justice with citizens is usually at magistrate's court level: magistrates are encouraged to interact with the community, and this is a major focus of transformation. The re-demarcation of magisterial boundaries is meant to achieve accessibility. A new system of court management, which divides magisterial districts into 14 clusters headed by chief or senior magistrates, has been introduced. Advice desks in courts are to be the first point of contact with the public. But these courts are still remote because of the high fees charged by counsel. The constitutional court is also not easily accessible, since its rules provide technical barriers to individuals; only large companies and people supported by organisations can access it. The division of the Bar is costly for people wishing to use the courts, and costs could be reduced by ending the divide between attorneys and advocates, although this is likely to meet resistance from the latter. Advice desks could be of little help without adequate legal representation. Thus, although accused people are entitled to representation, the vast majority are not represented. There are also moves to limit legal aid cases; this contradicts the department's vision of justice for all. A new system of lay assessors has been introduced in an effort to boost community participation in the administration of justice.(6) The 'broader community' is consulted when assessors are identified. While initial resistance from the legal profession has waned, responses by magistrates vary. In parts of the country lay assessors are used regularly, but in others the system does not yet operate smoothly. Two themes are evident. First, proposals for change often run foul of legal practitioners. A key issue for enquiry is the degree to which this represents an accurate assessment of the requirements of an effective system, or merely a desire to protect familiar ways of doing things - or special interests. But the department's success in reducing or managing this resistance has been mixed. Second, the creation of new offices and the passing of new laws may be an attempt to find far-reaching responses to problems which could be addressed far more simply. Another example of this point is that special courts have been proposed to highlight the seriousness of some problems, such as sexual offences, and to make the justice system more accessible to victims. These only remain at the pilot stage. Critics argue that providing several new court structures with their own bureaucracies and specialised judges is not sustainable, and will create further backlogs;(7) simply improving the basics would make it likelier that these cases will be taken seriously. In sum, the early evidence suggests that insufficient attention to addressing problems in the simplest possible way, a failure to prioritise, and the absence of strategies that anticipate reactions to change by the legal profession (including prosecutors) may explain the justice department's implementation gap. Libhongo Ntlokonkulu is a CPS research assistant. Endnotes Hugh Corder, professor of public law, University of Cape
Town, interview, 14.2.97. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- WATER AFFAIRS - Easier to drink than drive Problems surrounding interdepartmental co-ordination, community involvement in resource management, and gata-gathering are among the factors that have contributed to a growing gap between policy and implementation in the water sector. Tobias Schmitz reports Over the past few years the Department of Water Affairs and Forestry has formulated detailed policy on managing water in its natural setting, ie in river basins or catchments. These catchment management policies have been framed in response to three sets of crises emerging in the water sector. This article describes these crises and the department's response to them, and illustrates how problems surrounding interdepartmental co-ordination and community participation and a poverty of data are contributing to an emerging gap between policy formulation and implementation. The first crisis to have emerged in the water resource management sector over the past few years is that of population growth. Growing numbers of people have placed growing pressure on finite supplies of fresh water, raising questions about existing water allocations and the efficiency of water use in various economic sectors. Historically, the DWAF had enthusiastically embraced an approach to water management rooted in the applied natural sciences. This engineering approach was supply-driven, giving rise to technical rather than social solutions to communities' needs. It led to the construction of dams, interbasin transfer schemes, irrigation works, bulk supply schemes, purification works, and the like. Over the years its technical scope and capacity expanded exponentially - for instance, the national water storage capacity added per decade increased from 60m m3 in the 1940s to 491 million m3 in the 1950s, and some 14 000m m3 in the 1970s. But such growth could not continue indefinitely; towards the end of the past century it became clear that there were limits to the local supply of fresh water, and that new, demand-side, solutions would have to be found to water resource management problems. In response, catchment management emerged as an alternative planning tool. Planning water resource utilisation for an entire catchment (entitled 'catchment management' by the department) allowed water to be considered as a system for the first time, and existing uses to be rationalised on a large geographical scale. Pollution The second crisis is that continuing pollution is threatening water meant for human consumption and ecosystem maintenance, and pushing up the costs of municipal purification installations at a time when municipalities can rarely afford major upgrading exercises. South Africa's key piece of legislation on water pollution was the 1956 Water Act, which capacitated rather than constrained industrial and mining processes; water pollution control officers were given little more than moral arguments with which to persuade enterprises to adhere to effluent release standards. Over the years, therefore, as industrial and mining pollution increased, pressure mounted for a coherent and effective system of pollution control, backed up by appropriate legislation. Catchment management facilitates decisions around zoning and the placement of polluting industries relative to areas where good water quality is required, thus helping to resolve this crisis. The third crisis is that human encroachment on riverine floodplains, the emergence of industrial agriculture, and the drainage of wetlands have made river systems increasingly volatile and flood-prone. The build-up to the current situation has been slow and gradual; it was only when floods devastated parts of South Africa, Mozambique and Zimbabwe in early 2000 that the media began to pay attention to the stability of the nation's river systems. This issue was thus not prominent in 1996-8, when the country's water law was being overhauled; nevertheless, the new policy of catchment management introduced in the legislation could contribute substantially to the stabilisation of river systems. Therefore, both as regards water scarcity and water pollution, when democracy was introduced in 1994 and the grand project of transforming state institutions and writing new legislation began, the time was ripe for the existing water management system to be changed fundamentally. Whether the destabilisation of river systems will receive any policy attention remains to be seen. White papers Since 1994 the DWAF has released three white papers.(1) During the post-apartheid government's first term of office, considerable attention was paid to water services delivery, while under the second catchment management was elevated to second place on the department's list of priorities. During the first term, numerous preparatory documents on catchment management were commisioned.(2) The water law review process ran from 1996 to 1998, culminating in the new Water Act of 1998 which enabled the establishment of catchment management institutions (catchment management agencies, or CMAS). This allowed water to be managed within the natural boundaries of a catchment, and had the potential of combining all the effects of localised human interventions in water resources in an overall catchment management plan. This could considerably improve the efficiency of water planning, while the participatory nature of the envisaged institutions could make water management a more people-driven process. Given that these developments in catchment management are so recent, dicrepancies between policy and its implementation can only be analysed in terms of emerging trends rather than in terms of outcomes. Based on a literature review as well as interviews, the trends outlined below are regarded as important in assessing the direction of catchment management in South Africa. The first is a transition from integrated catchment management to integrated water resource management. The concept of integrated catchment management is an attempt to capture all impacts of human activity and natural events within a management plan. However, this would transcend all existing boundaries between line departments such as Land and Agriculture, Environmental Affairs and Tourism, and Water Affairs and Forestry. This would therefore require either complete integration of natural resource management under one ministry, or efficient co-operative governance between line departments involved in managing one or more prominent natural resources. The DWAF has diluted its early plans for catchment management to integrated water resource management, thus remaining comfortably within its competency. Unfortunately, current trends in South Africa show that environmental governance is being fragmented along departmental lines, with each department setting up its own institutions for environmental management and inviting others to participate. Community involvement The second trend is one towards community involvement. The issuing of licenses for water usage is to be handed to catchment management agencies (CMAS), answering to participatory catchment management forums (CMFS). Water resource management is thus supposed to become community-based, with local stakeholders helping to decide on catchment management and water allocation. However, South Africa's water delivery infrastructure is still locked into servicing largely white commercial interests; while the new Water Act spells out the goal of providing all South Africans with at least 25 litres of water a day for personal use, it remains silent on providing water for the productive needs of the poor. In the absence of clear developmental policy from the department, there are indications that the poor may be left to fend for themselves in stakeholder forums in which well-informed mining, forestry and agricultural companies as well as industrial enterprises are already playing a dominant role. The third trend is a growing poverty of data. Research on water management in South Africa has a long history; it was traditionally farmed out to a small number of research institutions and consultancies. Given steady work over a long period, these organisations were able to build their internal capacity to high levels; today, the extent of their knowledge and the reliability of their information is hampering the development of more representative, emerging consultants. Indications are that transformation in this area is very slow. Furthermore, information previously gathered on water resource management was highly technical in nature. However, as the department moves from an era of technology-push into one of user-pull, so the information needs are changing, and there is a dearth of socio-economic information required for proper catchment management. This is an obstacle to ventures into new policy arenas that are process- rather than product-oriented. Tobias Schmitz is a CPS policy analyst. Endnotes
|