Welfare | John Barrdear

Archive for the 'Welfare' Category

Four techniques of public policy

Published
by
John Barrdear
on 27 April 2008
in Economics, Justice/Law, Politics and Welfare
. 1 Comment

Suppose you have a situation where individual choices are suboptimal, both for that individual and for the group as a whole.  Exactly why the individual makes suboptimal choices isn’t immediately relevant for the moment.  It seems to me, that there are four broad approaches to “solving” this problem: a) an engineering approach; b) a government mandate; c) economic incentives; and d) a psychological approach.  The four approaches are not mutual exclusive and can even overlap, but they each bring a different mindset to the problem.  All four approaches can be taken to an absurd extreme.

To explain each of the four, an (admittedly pretty graphic) example may be useful.  Men seem, in general, to have a habit of spillage at public urinals - pee goes on the floor instead of the urinal.  This induces both private costs (increased health risks and the ‘ick’ factor of negotiating another guy’s floor-pee) and public costs (increase cleaning costs).

  • An engineering approach would be to design a better urinal to minimise spash-back.  An extreme engineering approach would not only do this, but also include sensors to detect when urine falls outside the catchment area and then activate an automatic (i.e. robotic) cleaning system.
  • A government mandate would make it illegal to spill your pee on the floor.  How extreme this is would depend on the enforcement mechanism.  A light-handed approach would pass the law and then do nothing to enforce it, similar to jay-walking.  A heavy-handed approach would hire a cop to occasionally watch men pee and arrest them if they spill, similar to most countries’ drug policy.  An extreme approach would have a government agent hold your penis to make sure that you don’t spill, similar to the Australian government’s enforcement of mandatory superannuation.
  • An economic incentive would impose a fine on men for spilling and/or give them a bonus payment for not spilling.  How extreme this measure is would depend on the size of the fine or the bonus.  Because this also has a need for enforcement (government-implemented or government-guaranteed), this can be thought of as a market-oriented government approach.
  • A psychological approach would seek to reframe the issue to influence the way that men make their choices.  For the urinal, it could be to make use of the fact that if you paint a fly in the urinal at the spot that minimises splash-back, the visual cue will cause men to aim at it and overall spillage will fall.  My mother did something similar when I was a kid.  She had five teenage boys living under her roof and not even making us clean the toilet seemed to stop the mess, so she put a ping-pong ball in the toilet (because it’s so light, it won’t flush down) and told us to aim at it.

So what’s my point?  Just this:  most people tend to focus on just one of the four approaches and think that it is the best way to solve every problem, when the truth is that different problems call for different responses and that the best strategy will usually employ several approaches.  In the case of spilling urine, the best strategy is probably a combination of an engineering and psychology, but in others a different combination may be optimal.  Don’t always think that your favourate approach is the best or only one.

Understanding race relations in America

Published
by
John Barrdear
on 21 April 2008
in USA and Welfare
. 0 Comments

Now, I’m just a white guy from Australia who’s only visited the US a few times, so there’s a strong element of “What the hell would I know?”[*], but still … I suspect that if you want a quick, visual introduction to race relations and the issues facing non-whites in America, you would not do too badly by only watching three things:

[*] The answer, of course, is “probably not very much,” especially if you subscribe solely to ethnographic or other immersive techniques of sociological fact-finding, but since my wife grew up as an Hispanic immigrant in the (28% African-American, 6% Hispanic) state of Georgia, I work on the assumption that even if I have no clue, she’ll yell at me if I say something entirely stupid.

How bad is human trafficking?

Published
by
John Barrdear
on 5 April 2008
in Migration, Prostitution, Sex, Thinking on the margin and Welfare
. 2 Comments

Adam pointed me to this review in the New Statesman by Brendan O’Neil of “Sex at the Margins: Migration, Labour Markets and the Rescue Industry” (Foyles, Amazon) by Laura María Agustín. Here is the core of the review:

Agustín points out that some anti-trafficking activists depend on numbers produced by the CIA (not normally considered a reliable or neutral font of information when it comes to international issues), even though the CIA refuses to “divulge its research methods”. The reason why the “new slavery” statistics are so high is, in part, that the category of trafficking is promiscuously defined, sometimes disingenuously so. Some researchers automatically label migrant women who work as prostitutes “trafficked persons”, basing their rationale on the notion that no woman could seriously want to work in the sex industry. The Coalition Against Trafficking in Women argues that “all children and the majority of women in the sex trade” should be considered “victims of trafficking”. As Agustín says, such an approach “infantilises” migrant women, “eliminating any notion that women who sell sex can consent”. Ironically, it objectifies them, treating them as unthinking things that are moved around the world against their will.

The reality is very different, the author says. Most migrant women, including those who end up in the sex industry, have made a clear decision to leave home and take their chances overseas. They are not “passive victims” who must be “saved” by anti-trafficking campaigners and returned to their country of origin. Rather, frequently, they are headstrong and ambitious women who migrate in order to escape “small-town prejudices, dead-end jobs, dangerous streets and suffocating families”. Shocking as it might seem to the feminist social workers, caring police people and campaigning journalists who make up what Agustín refers to as the “rescue industry”, she has discovered that some poor migrant women “like the idea of being found beautiful or exotic abroad, exciting desire in others”. I told you it was controversial.

One of Agustín’s chief concerns is that the anti-trafficking crusade is restricting international freedom of movement. What presents itself as a campaign to protect migrants from harm is actually making their efforts to flee home, to find work, to make the most of their lives in often difficult and unforgiving circumstances, that much harder. She writes about the “rescue raids” carried out by police and non-governmental organisations, in which even women who vociferously deny having been trafficked may be arrested, imprisoned in detention centres and sent back home - for the benefit of their own mental stability, of course. It used to be called repatriation; now, dolled up in therapeutic lingo, it is called “rescue”.

For all its poisonous prejudices, the old racist view of migrants as portents of crime and social instability at least treated them as autonomous, sentient, albeit “morally depraved”, adults. By contrast, as the author illustrates, the anti-trafficking lobby robs migrants of agency and their individual differences, and views them as a helpless, swaying mass of thousands who must be saved by the more savvy and intelligent women of the west and by western authorities.

It’s fascinating stuff and goes along with what I’ve previously said about prostitution:

[Slavery] aside (and that’s what people trafficking is - slave trading), you cannot simply save or rescue a prostitute. It is not a problem, if you consider it one, to be tackled. It is not something that you solve, once and for all. Prostitutes are people like everyone else and like everyone else, they think on the margin and respond to incentives.

In that entry I labelled human trafficking as slavery and I stand by that. Nevertheless, it would appear from Agustín’s work that the scale of the trafficking problem may be smaller than we commonly believe.

Abusing the welfare state

Published
by
John Barrdear
on 29 January 2008
in Economics, Personal, Politics and Welfare
. 2 Comments

I graduated from my engineering degree in November of 1998. I already had a job lined up, which I was due to start on the 18th of January, 1999. I had a couple of months to kill and I decided to go on the dole. What I wanted to do was work in a book store, and I applied to some, but not before first applying for unemployment benefits.

The Work for the Dole scheme was up and running by that point, but since it only applied to people who had been receiving payments for over six months, it was never going to be a concern for me. If I remember correctly, I had to fill out a form every two weeks detailing which businesses I had contacted in my quest for work. I definitely remember realising that all I needed to do was open the Yellow Pages at a random page, call whomever my finger fell on and have a conversation like this:

Them: Good afternoon [I was an unemployed recently-ex-student, after all. You can’t expect me to get out of bed in the morning, can you?]. This is company XYZ. How may I help?

Me: Hi. Do you have any jobs going?

Them: Uhh, no.

Me: Okay. Thanks.

I could then list that company on my fortnightly form, safe in the knowledge that even if Centrelink did bother to check - and I seriously doubt that they ever did; I could have written that I applied to “Savage Henry’s discount rabbit stranglers” and they would have just filed it away - then I was covered.

That felt a bit too much like taking the piss though, so I made sure that my targets were legitimate. As I mentioned above, I mostly applied to book and map retailers. I never lied to Centrelink or to any of the places I applied to. I always admitted to everyone that I had a job lined up and only needed to fill in the two-month gap, but if the truth be told, I didn’t put much effort in either, except for a couple of early applications to places where I genuinely would have enjoyed working. It’s not that I was disheartened; just that I didn’t particularly care. I wasn’t desperate for the cash (although it was certainly handy) or a job (since I’d have to quit in a few weeks anyway). I was really only doing the dole thing to see what it was like and the answer was: boring, but easy.

I’ve never felt any guilt or shame at doing it and I don’t think that any of my friends at the time were judging me negatively for it. It was a little unorthodox, but just accepted. I’ve certainly paid a lot more in taxes since than I received on the dole or for my university education. Fast-forward to 2008 and I am thinking about the social acceptability of receiving welfare payments, both in Australia and abroad.

It may just be the stereotype, but I get the feeling that in continental Europe, both in 1998 and today, what I did would barely raise an eyebrow; that it would be completely accepted. In the U.S.A., on the other hand, I think that it would be regarded by many as a shameful thing to do and an abuse of federal money. In Australia and the UK, I’m not so sure. I suspect that the more “aspirant middle class” you are and the older you are, the more shameful it will seem. I have no idea if the age thing is because it’s a process that everybody goes through as they get older or if there’s been a genuine generational shift in attitudes.

Any thoughts?