Professor Trevor Sofield:
"I have difficulty in accepting that western biocentric values
should take precedence over local values"
Dr
Trevor Sofield is Professor of Tourism, School of Leisure and Tourism
Management, University of Queensland. Dr Sofield has been appointed
to numerous professional positions over the years. He was Coordinator
of the Australian National Cooperative Research Centre for Sustainable
Tourism (STCRC) for Western Australia (1997-2000) and Tasmania (2001-2004),
which links 16 universities around Australia in partnership in one
of the largest tourism research programs globally. He is one of
eight Directors of the Australian Tourism Research Institute based
in Canberra; a director of the International Council for Tourism
Education and Research based in France; a founding member, Executive
Board Member and Australian National Representative of the Asia
Pacific Tourism Association based in Korea; a member of the International
Institute for Sports Tourism based in Ottawa, Canada; and an International
Expert for UNESCO, Bangkok, on World Heritage Sites (tourism management).
He was head of a task force for the World Tourism Organisation on
STEP (Sustainable Tourism as a tool for Eliminating Poverty), Madrid,
Spain; is State Representative to the Australian Council of Universities
for Tourism and Hospitality Education; and an expert for the Australian
Minister for the Environment’s National Task Force on Heritage
Tourism. He is currently Team Leader for the Mekong Tourism Development
Program, Cambodia and Vietnam, and Technical Director, Sustainable
Tourism, for the STCRC/GRM International consulting consortium.
He is a former Editor-In-Chief of “Pacific Tourism Review”,
published in New York; and is currently a Resource Editor for the
world’s leading tourism academic journals, “Annals of
Tourism Research”, “Journal of Sustainable Tourism”,
“Journal of Ecotourism”, “Tourism Recreation Research”,
“Tourism Review International”, “Anatolia”
and “Journal of Sports Tourism”.
Dr Sofield gained
his BA (Hons) in social anthropology from the University of Western
Australia, studied international economics through the Australian
Department of Foreign Affairs and completed his PhD in Environmental
Science at James Cook University, Qld.
Prior to joining
the ranks of academia in 1990, Dr Sofield was a senior diplomat
in the Australian Foreign Service (with postings in Tanzania, Sri
Lanka, Singapore, New Zealand, Solomon Islands and Fiji, amongst
others, the final six years at ambassadorial rank). On leaving the
Foreign Service he went into partnership to develop an island resort
in Solomon Islands, a venture he still part-owns today. He has a
wide first-hand experience of tourism issues in the Asia/Pacific
having undertaken more than 70 consultancies and research projects
in Australia, China, Nepal, Indonesia, Malaysia, Vietnam and 12
Pacific Island countries. Recent projects in China include as team
leader for an Ecotourism Strategy for Nature Reserves in Yunnan;
as International Expert on formulating the Tourism Master Plan for
Hubei Province (site of the Three Gorges Dam across the Yangtze
River); as International Expert to assist in assessment of tourism
potential in Southeast Tibet; and as ecotourism and community based
tourism expert for a new tourism strategy for Xinjiang Province,
focusing on the Minorities Tuwa and Kazak peoples along the borders
with Kazakhstan and Russia.
Dr Sofield’s
research interests are eclectic and cover sustainable tourism development,
community based tourism and cultural minorities, natural and cultural
heritage tourism, (especially ecotourism and protected area management),
environmental, socio-cultural and economic impacts, government tourism
policy, and tourism planning. He has more than 200 publications
on these topics. His most recent publications include seven training
handbooks on Community Based Tourism (2004) for the UN Commission
on Trade and Development; and ‘Empowerment and Sustainable
Tourism Development’, (2003, 401pp), the seventh volume published
in the prestigious Tourism Social Science Series by Pergamon, London.
Dr Sofield was
born in Perth, Western Australia but grew up in Tasmania. He is
married with three children. His personal interests include all
sport (he was a representative hockey player for 12 years) reading,
writing poetry, gardening, photography and wildlife trekking. In
an earlier life he was a keen film-maker with more than 30 state,
national and international amateur awards for his productions.
(The Interview
follows:)
ECOCLUB: You
have worked in many countries of Asia and Pacific, with different
or even opposing systems, economies, national interest, ideologies.
Would you feel that the majority of tourism development projects
are: (1) politically neutral, (2) promote government interests or
(3) promote "western" values (free trade, democracy, capitalism).
And in fact, how dissimilar are the countries you have been working
at? Does one size fits all, when it comes to implementing "sound
principles" and time-tested guidelines?
Prof. Trevor
Sofield: In attempting an answer to this question it may be useful
to note that countries in which I have worked include African, Asian,
European and South Pacific states, whose politico-economic systems
include centrally controlled economies, economies in transition,
free market economies, micro-island states (eg Tuvalu, population
10,000 (yes, ten thousand only), Cook Islands, 26,000), mono-economic
states (e. g. Nauru, popn 8,000, sole industry: phosphates, mined
out between 1901 and 2002), and the world’s most populated
state (with a mixed economy), China.
The answer(s)
to this question are country-specific. Depending upon the dominant
political ideology prevailing at the time that tourism development
is undertaken, the majority of such development projects may be
politically neutral, or they may promote government interests, or
they may promote "western" values. In virtually all cases,
however, economic benefits are the dominant motivation: “triple
bottom line” accounting and accountability still has a long
way to go. Conservation of the environment, biodiversity, and cultural
heritage, sustainability, community development, decentralization,
poverty alleviation, and other conceptual policies lag behind the
economic determinant even in those cases where such ‘good’
policies may be advocated as the reason for tourism development
and/or intervention. In saying this, however, I am not simplistically
decrying the economic, materialistic motivation: it is necessary
to understand the fundamental role of economics: if there is no
economic activity that provides minimum financial benefits then
there can be no sustainable tourism. There must be a mix of all
factors, and trying to get the balance right so that one particular
factor does not dominate to the exclusion of other needs is the
vital requirement.
In one sense,
I would suggest that ALL tourism development projects promote government
interests because they must go through a governmental process of
approval in the final analysis and any project that failed to meet
required conditions or standards would not eventuate. Many tourism
development projects will be embarked upon with no particular political
objectives or political agenda in mind; but the very fact of having
to obtain approval (eg through regulatory mechanisms, issue of licenses,
etc) necessarily marries them to the government policies of the
day. Even where NGOs are able to operate in an environment of little
direct control by government agencies, generally there will be a
perception by many third world (and second world) governments that
only those NGOs which support their policies will be allowed to
undertake activities in their countries. Open democracies are a
different case.
In terms of
whether tourism development promotes western values, one area where
I have difficulty is in accepting that western biocentric values
should take precedence over local values. I have experienced situations
in a number of countries where western conservationist values are
put ahead of people’s survival, and when working with subsistence
livelihoods adoption of an exclusive conservationist approach, a
‘lock-them-out mentality’ from resources that are essential
to daily survival, then I deplore the lack of balance. Different
world views hold differing values, and I have difficulty sometimes
with ‘western’ aid donors, development agencies and/or
NGO’s pushing western values as the answer to a particular
tourism development situation because in my experience, if there
is no cultural ‘fit’ then no matter how sound an approach
may seem from a western interventionist perspective, it may be so
disruptive as to be counterproductive. I say to all of my students:
‘Before you undertake tourism policy formulation and planning
in a country different from your own, ensure that you understand
the culture and the politics before writing a single word.”
In my view one reason why so many development policies and plans
sit on shelves gathering dust is that they are impossible of implementation
because the authors have failed to take into account the social,
cultural and political parameters within which they have dropped
their reports. Those factors determine the practicality of tourism
planning and while ideals and best practice standards are essential
to set the scene, if anything is to be accomplished often a certain
pragmatism that requires some adjustment of the ideal must be incorporated;
otherwise effort is simply wasted. Far better to achieve a beginning
that points in the right direction than to have a planning and development
exercise rejected because of socio-cultural or political boundaries
that have not been taken into account.
And you have
worked with indigenous communities, from the Australian Aborigines
to countless tribal and ethnic groups in Asia, in tourism and beyond.
From your experience, how accurate is the notion that indigenous
communities are community-minded?
TS: Often in
my view ‘community’ as holistic is a myth. Many indigenous
communities are ‘community-minded’ – but the degree
to which they may subordinate individual or family ‘rights’
(which may itself be an imported concept) to broader community interests
will vary from society to society and country to country. Different
forms of community leadership will influence to a significant extent
the capacity and/or willingness of a community to operate as one.
For example, in Melanesian societies where there are few inherited
leadership positions but rather a loose conglomerate of ‘bigmen’
who rise and fall according to their abilities (‘achieved’
leadership, as distinct from ‘ascribed leadership’ where
lineage (‘royal blood) determines who shall be village chief,
as in Polynesian societies) a community will often be riven by deep
seated rivalries and competition; and trying to implement ‘community-based
tourism’ as if one were working with a single entity is often
a fallacy. Additionally, in most communities there will be members
with greater entrepreneurial sense or skills than others, and there
will be those who are more community-minded that their neighbours
– in other words in virtually all communities there will be
a spectrum, a wide range of skills, abilities and propensities to
act in different ways. This is the reality that needs to be understood:
an idealistic view of community-as-one may be simplistic and naive.
In what is the
equivalent of inner city work in developed countries, some tourism
projects in developing countries, target urban underprivileged groups,
such as slum dwellers, with the noble aim of providing "equal
opportunities to all". So what happens when improved education
and raised expectations, fail to translate into a higher standard
of living - due to unforeseen socio-political barriers in these
countries - does turmoil ensue? And is this a necessary evil, or
does it defeat the purpose of the exercise?
TS: Your questions
again defy a simple answer. On the one hand there is the story of
the young man who was walking along the beach and he saw in the
distance an old man constantly bending down, picking something up
from the sand and throwing it into the water. As he drew closer
he saw that the beach was littered with a million starfish that
had been stranded by the falling tide. Laughingly he said to the
old man: “There are millions: you can’t make a difference!”
Without pausing, the old man bent down, picked up another starfish
and threw it back into the sea, saying: “Made a difference
for that one.” On the other hand there is my personal experience
of the 1971 insurgency in Sri Lanka when 30,000 graduates took up
arms against the Bandaranaike Government and brought the whole country
to a standstill for 12 months, with estimates of deaths ranging
from 2,000 to 20,000. A major motivation for many rebels was that
even with a degree there was no gainful employment. With a degree
in economics after eight years wait you might be offered a job as
assistant stationmaster on a small railway station in the tea country;
or with a degree in education and a graduate diploma in teaching
perhaps after ten years waiting you might get a job as junior teacher
in a primary school in some tiny village where there was no electricity
or water, and no paper or pencils for your students.
The difference
is that starfish cannot think and act together; but in the case
of the JVP in Sri Lankan, they were able to mobilise, obtain weapons
and attempt an armed insurrection.
Now that is
an extreme; but where a society lacks the capacity to absorb its
educated people and raises expectations that cannot be met, then
there can indeed be the risk of turmoil. In the case of Sri Lanka,
the ‘damage’ was enormous: perhaps 10,000 young lives
lost, large numbers of defence force personnel killed; communities
destroyed; and the estate economies for tea, rubber and copra devastated
for a year so that several million, including many village communities,
were inflicted with economic hardship.
In Tanzania,
in the 1960s and 1970s, President Julius Nyerere went against accepted
orthodoxy about the advantages of universal education and set in
place policies which would only educate about 60% of the population
to primary school level, about 25% of that 60% to high school level;
and about 10% of those for tertiary education. His rationale was
simple: as an impoverished developing state with few resources,
education for all would raise expectations that simply could not
be met and result in social upheaval and destructive destabilization.
His concern was that thousands of people would emigrate from their
rural villages to the towns and cities which had no capacity to
employ them gainfully, whereas by remaining in their village communities
they could continue to be useful, making a contribution that was
essential to family survival and also maintenance of cultural tradition.
The alternative in his view was not rural-urban ‘drift’
but a rural-urban ‘torrent’, and destabilization of
the whole country at far greater cost could occur. This was a very
hard call: it denied – from our western perspective –
the right of every child to be educated, and therefore able to make
a choice; yet I would argue that Nyerere was also right in that
for many there was no real choice because the society at that time
could not provide alternatives.
Here in Cambodia
I confront a similar dilemma. There is a NGO working with the 30,000
people who are scavengers on Phnom Penh’s rubbish dump. The
conditions are appalling: heavy air pollution from constantly burning
wastes (including tyres), no hygiene, health risks from rotting
rubbish, hospital wastes, etc, no running water, and slum dwellings,
and very high levels of child labour (as young as five or six).
Our western sensibilities are highly offended by such appalling
conditions and my initial response was to give strong support to
the NGO which has established a school for rubbish dump children
and in the past five years has put more than 5000 children through
its classrooms. It has developed a hospitality school and it produces
some of the best trained restaurant workers and semi-skilled hotel
workers in Phnom Penh where the industry quickly employs numbers
of them.
On deeper thought
however, I now have several questions swirling around in what passes
for my brain that cause me to pause:
First, to get
the parents to release the children from scavenging duties, the
school provides the family with enough rice for a month. This is
‘compensation’ – it is not earned in any way.
There is no requirement for the parents to do anything other than
send little Sokha off to school five days a week. It takes place
in a country where at all levels of society, paying bribes to get
things done is accepted. One might argue that the morality of the
greater good justifies the means, but the question can be asked:
In effect is not the NGO playing the same game and assisting the
perpetuation of the vicious cycle of corruption? Are not these children
learning – at the age of five or six - that if you pay something
you get what you want (in this case the NGO ‘paying’
their parents?) If they went to a public primary school they would
learn at the age of five or six that they would need to give the
teacher 200 riels once or twice a week if they were to get pen and
pencil because the government cannot provide enough supplies for
all pupils in its school. And if their parents are too poor to provide
the 200 riels, they still learn the same lesson: they miss out because
they cannot pay. This is not the ‘user pays principle’
in action; rewards are not based on merit; equity does not exist.
It is setting in place a core value that is learned at a tender
age – you can get what you want by paying for it. And this
permeates all levels of society.
Another aspect
to this point is that the provision of rice to the parents could
be interpreted as unsustainable. The NGO school is not self-supporting,
it has no income-generating activities. It relies entirely upon
donations for its survival and while many organizations have demonstrated
very great endurance over many years through continuous external
generosity, here there is a need for a constant cash stream and
a constant flow of volunteers to provide the necessary education
and training and administration. This results in tensions and lack
of quality control over its operations.
I then have
another question about this initiative. In a society which cannot
provide enough jobs for everybody with education and training, and
where in most cases a living wage is not paid, does this intervention
really provide choice for the individuals? For example, the average
wage for clerks in the government service is less than US$40 per
month, and many restaurant and hotel staff earn less than US$30
per month. A living wage is assessed by the UN as being more than
US$100 per month.
And here is
the rub. As an uneducated rubbish dump scavenger a ten year old
child averages US$4 per day, or US$120 per month. With a family
of five so engaged, a monthly income of US$500 is standard for many.
The rubbish dump ‘Thirty Thousand’ are not impoverished
in a monetary sense. Even the dwelling standards of some are better
than many others living off the rubbish dump and they have erected
substantial houses in the wasteland. Certainly the living environment
is adverse and health standards are very poor: but the level of
incomes provides a capacity for these people to obtain medical treatment
that hundreds of thousands of other Cambodians cannot afford, so
even in this aspect there is a compensatory factor. What choice,
therefore, does education offer? For some, certainly the opportunity
to live away from the rubbish dump – but in relative poverty!
There is yet
another question that may be asked. In a city and a society which
cannot afford western standards of garbage disposal, the Thirty
Thousand make an extraordinary contribution to environmental management:
there is a very high level of recycling of plastics, paper, and
metals as a result of their efforts. In the medium term there is
no alternative to this aspect of what they do. The NGO to which
I have referred is NOT trying to close down the rubbish dump in
its present form, and itself is a very strong supporter of re-cycling;
but its intervention nevertheless has the paradoxical outcome of
reducing the labour available for recycling …
So where do
I stand? On balance, I would favour the starfish approach: such
assistance can make a difference for a few. But I would also try
to adapt the current directions of the NGO to lessen concerns in
other directions. I would also caution against applying our own
western values about such a rubbish dump and its population because
in Cambodia at the present time it could be argued cogently and
logically that the Thirty Thousand are making a vital contribution
to the capital city’s health and environment and that with
incomes many times higher than other Cambodians they themselves
make rational assessments of where the benefits lie. They are in
effect empowered through their income levels if not through their
levels of education. We should not rush into making a judgement
about the Thirty Thousand along the ones of: “Sure, they are
making a contribution –but at what cost?” based on our
own standards. There are times when the emic (insider) approach
is more apt than an etic approach (outsider assessment of what is
‘good’ or ‘bad’ in a given situation, based
on foreign values and considerations).
Size matters:
To some, large-scale tourism development projects are grandiose,
unsustainable and impossible to coordinate, while others call small-scale
projects timid, doomed and not coordinated. Are perhaps micro-projects
inherently better for alternative forms of tourism and large projects
more suitable for mass tourism?
TS: As the old
song goes: “It ain’t necessarily so!” Generally,
the proposition is one I would agree with: micro-projects are usually
better for alternative forms of tourism. But we do have examples
of large projects which utilise mass tourism for the benefit of
the environment, and the society and culture in which they operate.
For example, Jiuzhaogou World Heritage listed National Park in Sichuan
Province, China, last year received more than 1.3 million visitors.
They contributed more than US$24 million in entrance fees and Jiuzhaogou
has in place an outstanding regime of environmental management that
is better than most I have seen in so-called developed countries.
For example, its toilets are waterless, chemical, and in a fleet
of buses that are driven out of the park every evening to a waste
treatment plant 20kms from the boundaries of the park to prevent
pollution; and those buses are only driven in and out each morning
and evening when there is no tourist traffic inside the park. The
millions in revenue from mass tourism have been harnessed in best
practice strategies that provide outstanding experiences. For the
six indigenous Tibetan communities (about 1,100 people) who reside
in the park poverty has been completely eliminated by a range of
pro-active policies designed to help them receive direct benefits
from tourism activities (homestays, guiding, handicrafts and artefact
sales, cultural displays, food and beverage provision for all visitors,
etc). No non-Tibetans are permitted to engage in these activities
inside the park boundaries. From impoverished yak pastorialists
twenty years ago, they are now empowered economically, socially,
culturally and psychologically (their own assessment of their current
situation, based on a detailed survey over a year by a New Zealand
researcher).
I could provide
other examples, but space and time compel me to limit my response
to my opening generalities.
Perhaps a taboo
topic: Stories of consultants not being paid by other contractual
parties, with the excuse of not delivering - or not delivering on
time - are not uncommon, although it is usually a hush-hush issue,
as the reputations of ability (and indeed confidentiality) may be
blemished. So would you feel there is a need for some more international
3rd party monitoring and transparency or is it impractical, for
commercial reasons?
TS: It is probably
impractical to set up some sort of international third party monitoring
system. Consultants have a ‘duty of care’ to perform
professionally and if there are shortcomings in their work, then
legally binding contractual obligations will normally provide processes
for both parties to sort out the problem. However, there are instances
where the legal apparatus is not sufficiently strong enough to provide
protection and occasionally unfair outcomes result: work may have
been completed on time: it may have been professional; it may have
provided solutions for the client - but for whatever reason payment
is avoided. This is a much broader issue than tourism development
of course, and bedevils much investment and development activity
whether it is in the mining sector, the manufacturing sector or
the service sector in some countries. All one can do really is to
carry out a risk assessment before commencing a particular exercise.
You have a uniquely
multi-faceted, first-hand experience of small island states, acquired
through diplomatic service, resort operation, academic research
and consultancy. So, do small islands merit the world's attention
(and funding) as special cases and convenient experimentation labs,
or do they make a disproportionately large noise as most of them
now are, or may soon be, independent states, with useful UN votes?
TS: As usual
a question with many hooks. From my vantage point as a former Australian
diplomatic head of mission to several South Pacific states, I would
say yes, often small states are wooed by larger states and bestowed
with largesse out of proportion to their actual populations and
needs because there are political advantages for their benefactors
(e. g. they do have a vote in the UN (that is a bit cynical but
if we look at what Taiwan is currently doing around the South Pacific
where it has used 'chequebook diplomacy' and provided millions of
dollars to get states to withdraw recognition of China and recognize
them instead, it is an argument with some validity).
However, often
we cannot apply normal benefit cost analyses to their needs because
if we did we would never do anything! Niue is a good case in point.
Back in the 1970s, lacking modern communications with the outside
world, a feasibility study looked at building a port (the island
is an uplifted coral atoll with 20m-50m high cliffs all around,
not a single beach or harbour) or an airport. The port would have
cost millions, blasting a huge artificial harbour across the wave
cut platform into the cliff, so the airport - much cheaper - was
built. Previously, with only one ship every six weeks and a passenger
capacity of less than 30, few islanders could migrate to New Zealand
(about 300 per year). With the airport and weekly flights, within
three years the population had halved, within five years it was
down to one quarter, and now 20,000 Niueans live in NZ and only
1500 on the island. The air connection could not provide an alternative
to the ships which still had to carry heavy cargoes (lighters were
used to get them through a narrow cleft in the reef and then they
were hauled up the cliff face by a crane), and Niueans should not
have been denied access to modern transport and modern international
connections, but the upshot of a policy based on a narrow benefit-cost
analysis resulted in a disastrous outcome for the country, which
can no longer support basic services like a small hospital, or even
schools. Agriculture has ceased. It has regressed in every way,
although tourism keeps it going - just. But all over the world small
island countries face dilemmas and must move away from a narrow
economic appraisal to try and consider social and cultural impacts
before we undertake some forms of development. Western approaches
to resource management are not always applicable on small islands
where 'smallness' imposes its own dynamics and economies of scale
simply cannot be accommodated if a service or some other venture
is to be attempted. Something as simple as an access road may not
be feasible when viewed in strict economic terms because of small
populations to be serviced by it and lack of economic returns from
whatever resources may be present. But without that road the population
in question may be condemned to never participating in 'development'
benefits (however defined, such as ability to get children to a
school, or sick people to a clinic).
There are also
constraints of ' indivisibilities' caused by smallness. One cannot
fly half a plane even if it is only half full. Many of the air routes
to island countries are classified as "thin" routes and
lack the capacity to generate higher capacity loads. The tyranny
of distance is a compounding factor for many such countries.
Could I be a
little self-serving on this question, and direct readers to my book,
"Empowerment and Sustainable Tourism Development" which
examines the entire issue of island tourism with five detailed case
studies from the South Pacific? (T. Sofield, Pergamon, London, 2003).
From your experience,
what is the best way for ending up with self-supporting sustainable
small scale tourism operations: grants, loans, soft loans, subsidies
or no loans?
TS: The simple
answer is: there is no 'one-size-fits-all'. In different circumstances,
any one of these approaches - or indeed a combination of several
approaches - may lead to a better outcome in terms of sustainability.
A common problem
with many small scale tourism ventures is an under-estimation of
annual income generation, cash flows and the length of time it may
take to become visible in the market place. This last is very serious
for many such ventures: they often lack the education/skills in
marketing that are necessary, fail to appreciate that marketing
needs to take them out of the local and into the global (especially
in this electronic age), and fail to appreciate the costs of marketing
in the first few years (a ball park figure may be as high as one
sixth or 16% of total operating expenditure).
Grants unless
carefully managed and awareness building created by the grantee
can lead to situations where the recipients do not appreciate them
as much as for a loan where they have to accept a greater degree
of responsibility in order to service that loan. But loans can also
hold back a development, especially where small impoverished communities
are involved. There are pluses and minuses both ways.
I have worked
in and with all situations and am a firm believer in finding ways
to ensure that there is a very concrete contribution by the recipients
so that they can develop a real sense of ownership. For example,
I am happy to participate in a grant to a community to develop a
small resort - but I will try to structure the grant so that it
provides bags of cement and materials (steel, bolts, nails, glass,
etc) not available to the community: but a bag of cement is useless
unless someone mixes it with sand, gravel and water and expends
a lot of 'elbow grease' (energy) to lay it. I will provide a qualified
foreman, plumber and electrician to supervise construction, but
the community are going to have to provide the labour, without which
nothing gets done. In this way a grant can 'save' an impoverished
community from the burdens imposed by a loan, but still have ownership
and therefore acceptance of responsibility to operate and maintain
the venture, creating a greater probability of sustainability. A
soft loan coupled with this approach is also a good way to increase
the sustainability probability equation.
To the outsider,
the development fraternity (if it can be described as such), seems
complex and mysterious: stereotypically including the young romantic
volunteers working with the downtrodden, and paid in kind (food
& shelter), and the older, high-flying consultants doing one
conference a week. So, what really determines and justifies vastly
different remuneration levels: The laws of supply & demand?
And if so is it perhaps an oligopolistic market, with few agencies
calling the shots, and weaving a complex web of sub-contractors,
or is it a perfectly competitive market that guarantees value for
money? In other words, is it a meritocracy, an aristocracy, or a
democracy?The development fraternity - idealistic volunteers at
one end to high paid so-called experts at the other? A meritocracy,
an aristocracy or a democracy?
TS: By now you
will be able to predict my response - there are some good and some
bad in all categories. I have seen a lot of good result from idealistic
volunteers and I have also seen a lot of damage even if their interventions
were well-meaning. But the same can equally be said of consultants
paid to undertake a job professionally.
I occasionally
have a problem with some volunteers and/or NGOs because while they
claim to be more in tune with grassroots needs, live and work at
grass roots, and claim to be following agendas set by local communities,
when one examines their participatory awareness or decision-making
models, sometimes they are in fact bringing their own values to
bear upon proceedings. This is to be expected: a volunteer and most
NGOs have a very clear set of guiding principles to which they adhere.
They are motivated by ideals not monetary gain. And in very many
cases their interventions produce benefits.
But sometimes
they can affect outcomes in subtle ways. Who draws up the structure
for a participatory meeting, who puts certain items on the agenda,
who claims expertise not available locally, or simply by virtue
of being an outsider is automatically accorded a particular status
by a community (eg educated, therefore custodian of superior information,
thus has 'views' that may be accepted unquestioningly), etc and
etc.? And so outcomes are sometimes guided quite strongly, even
if unintentionally, by the volunteer or NGO even as they claim that
they are simply facilitators and allowing the 'true' voice of the
community to come through.
In some cases
volunteers do not have the skill set that is required in a particular
situation and so create problems rather than solving them.
At least one
can expect that where highly paid consultants are concerned if there
is a transparent selection process without political intervention
then their technical expertise should not be in question. Which
is no guarantee of success! There are hundreds, perhaps thousands,
of examples of plans drawn up by experts sitting on shelves gathering
dust because of a failure to provide 'pragmatic' advice. I tell
all of my students that they are forbidden(!) to undertake tourism
planning on a country until they are reasonably familiar with both
the political and socio-cultural frameworks of that country. Or
else to make sure that their planning team has such experts to assist
them. Why? Because it is no use whatsoever producing a technically
perfect 'solution' if it is unacceptable politically: it is no solution
at all. Nor is it any use producing a technically perfect solution
if it cuts across the fundamental values of a society and a culture,
because they will simply reject it. The real expertise lies in finding
ways to COMBINE the fundamentals of good science/economics/environmental
best practice, etc and present them in ways which 'fit' culturally,
socially and can be presented in a politically appealing form. Sometimes
expert advice is not rejected because it is not affordable or not
technically excellent but because it is unpalatable socially, culturally
and/or politically. My rule of thumb is to decline an invitation
to work in an unfamiliar sociocultural and political milieu unless
the time can be built in to the project to allow me to develop a
modicum of understanding in these key areas, or, on odd occasions,
to have such experts join the team.
In terms your
high flying one-week experts I term them 'parachutists' because
of the way they just drop in and then take off again. Sometimes
where the issue is clearly defined and has clear boundaries, 'instant
trouble shooting' can work in delineating a solution, but where
is the implementation?
Where there
is a meritocrat bounded by idealism and the capacity to move between
technical expertise and alien sociocultural value systems with due
political sensitivity then you will have a good consultant.
Universities:
It is nowadays common wisdom, that universities must be connected
to the "marketplace", and offer their graduates real and
real-time experience of "how the world really works",
in the context of their studies. But does this risk producing young
graduates who are far more "practical" and less "idealistic",
and thus tilt the balance of a society towards more conservatism?
TS:
Where oh where has the 'search for knowledge for its own sake' gone?
Most universities in the twenty-first century have had to adapt
to a more business oriented model in which courses are often designed
for jobs first, jobs second and jobs third before they raise themselves
to higher levels. However, any institution which is to be called
a university and accepted as such must in my view lift itself above
vocational education and training (which is fundamental and absolutely
necessary - I am NOT criticising the role they have to play in assisting
all industries). And a simple way of judging such an institution
is to see whether they offer higher degrees by research as distinct
from higher degrees by coursework.
I have been
involved with four universities which included research higher degrees,
but also built research AND industry experience into their undergraduate
courses. One successful model involved third year final tourism
degree students identifying a problem which an industry partner
wanted solved, and then spending six months working with that partner
researching the issue. This was highly beneficial in a number of
ways, including but not limited to the following: i). it exposed
students to the 'real working world', ii). it allowed them to apply
their theoretical knowledge in a real-life situation, iii). it benefited
their career prospects by letting industry see that university tourism
graduates had something to offer (especially when they produced
a workable solution, as many of them did); iv). it gained significant
credibility for the university because the undergraduates went out
into cities, towns and communities all around the state and 'advertised'
the university by their presence.
However, at
the end of the day, while I work in applied knowledge, I am a conservative
at heart and believe that our society is losing something because
universities can no longer undertake as much pure research solely
for knowledge's sake but must often bend to commercial (and commercialised)
pressures and demands.
In the last
30 years, would you say that international tourism development projects
have acquired a considerably higher degree of environmental sustainability,
accountability, efficiency and transparency, or is it just the wording
that has become wordier?
TS:
By and large, the key objectives of sustainability, accountability,
efficiency and transparency are being met and applied. All of the
major aid agencies incorporate such principles and are usually rigorous
in monitoring and applying them e. g. the World Bank, the Asian
Development Bank, the European Community, and many bilateral aid
donor countries. Having had first hand knowledge of working with
such agencies and countries I can say that often the demands for
accountability and transparency seem onerous when one is in the
field trying to meet various deadlines: but the structures for ensuring
that these principles are followed is there and for good reason
that require no justification by me.
There
are still examples of poor outcomes, of course, and some developing
countries only pay lip service to these principles (as do some local
councils in western countries!). Environmental principles suffer
most, as the hoary old counter argument says: " We must develop
first: only rich countries can afford the luxury of environmental
safeguards". I am appalled sometimes at what I call 'investor
supply-side driven development' where the best practice foundations
are blatantly ignored as short term dollars are vigorously chased.
Finally,
in ten words what makes a good consultant?
Professor
Trevor Sofield: Sorry, I need 25 words! Has the ability
to combine technical expertise with socio-cultural understanding
and political sensitivity to produce practical outcomes which meet
best practice and are implementable.
ECOCLUB:
Thank you very much
Source:http://ecoclub.com/news/078/interview.html |