My favorite academic paper was finally published, in American Economic Review, no less. Nava Ashraf, Erica Field and Jean Lee explore the effect of husbands on fertility decisions in urban Zambia. This is very similar to my own dissertation research project in Tanzania (aka, my life for the past five years), so I'm quite interested in their work.

Similar to my study, the authors use a randomized control trial to measure the impact of husbands involvement in decisions about whether or not to adopt contraceptives. In contrast to my study, the Zambian health worker only visits homes a single time and gives a voucher for free injectable contraceptives (my intervention is longer and contraceptives are already free Tanzania). Women who receive the voucher alone (without their husbands) have the option of adopting contraceptives discretely; women who receive the voucher together with their husbands have a clearer path towards some form of family planning communication. Men in the Couples treatment (e.g. receive together) are essentially given veto power: they are a part of the discussion about the availability of contraceptives and can choose to express their approval, be part of the contraceptive adoption process, prohibit the stuff or be a stick in the mud (among other options). And because men in these samples typically have more bargaining power within the household (economist speak for women not empowered), this sort of inclusion of husbands translates into the power to obstruct.

A somewhat unsurprising discussion in this paper is about the trade-offs between privately improving a woman's set of choices (and gaining utility), while possibly lowering the value of the marriage by the addition of secrecy (the "conjugal value of the marriage"). And in my own study, I've heard some women admit to the short-term benefits of concealed used of contraceptives while bemoaning the risks of secrecy and poor communication in their marriage. In other news, these women tend to have inattentive and unhelpful husbands.

One thing that Ashraf et al. seem to overlook, however, is the possibility of changing the psycho-social cost (economist speak for anxiety) of using contraceptives. 

We do find that [women in the Individual treatment, who had an opportunity to use contraceptives without their husband's approval] experienced a significant reduction in happiness, health and ease of mind compared to those in the Couple treatment. This suggests a longer-term psycho-social cost to concealable contraceptives that can be mitigated by spousal involvement.

While involving husbands in the dialogue over family planning is one way to reduce the burden of secrecy, the elephant in the journal article is that birth control carries this weight of anxiety because it is not socially acceptable in these places. The type of husband whose wife is seriously considering concealed contraceptives is not exactly a well-educated progressive male feminist. He resides in the space where social acceptance matters, traditional gender and tribal roles dominate and mis-education (especially with regards to medicine and healthcare) is rampant. 

In fact, in their large sample, some men who even expressively did not want to have a child in the next two years simultaneously discouraged their wives from using contraceptives, thereby increasing inefficient outcomes (which, in this case, is economist speak for unwanted births). This is not just miscalculated costs or utility, this is something bigger.

Despite my training as an economist, I cannot deny that the psycho-social cost of adopting contraceptives (concealed or not) can be reduced by fuzzy things like social change. Of course, I also acknowledge the standard fertility determinants of microeconomics. But, my work with community health workers in rural Tanzania has given me renewed hope in training, education and development as vehicles to adjust gender norms and create institutional social change. Social change is hard to measure and harder to implement, but when it is done well, the change is undeniable. Poor people's fertility choices may be easier to digest through a simple microeconomic lens, but to study these decisions without at least some acknowledgement of the larger social factors dominating individual action like sexism, culture and social norms is to overlook the greater implications of this research.

There is a growing body of criticism of young westerners volunteering abroad in developing countries. Questions a potential volunteer should ask herself: What skills do I have that are actually useful to people in rural Gambia? Who will benefit more from my visit: me or people in rural Gambia? What are the potential detrimental effects (cultural, neo-colonial, organizational) of my visit?

While I don't think most volunteers consider all this, it does seem that the fabricated notion of recent-white-college-grad-saving-African-children (link) is coming under more scrutiny. The desire to travel abroad as a volunteer is driven by good intentions, of course, the desire to do something about poverty, although the something is not clear at all. I fell into this idealistic zeal, as a young volunteer in Senegal eight years ago, and I think I’ve come out of that experience (plus living off-and-on living in Tanzania for the past three years) with a more realistic perspective.

The critical self-reflection, of what each volunteer is actually adding to the local economy, culture and the mission of the NGO, should be applied to the developing country organizations themselves. Does taking on volunteers actually fit into the operating mission of this NGO?

In theory that the idea of volunteer work has potential to be beneficial; free labor of course lowers operating costs of an organization, leaving more money for programming itself. In practice, however, managing foreign volunteers can distract enormously from the goals of an organization. I've seen this happen with several NGOs here in Tanzania, organizations stretch their mission to house, manage and accommodate young foreigners.  Managing the volunteers (who are often young, female and inexperienced) often means finding work for them to do that they are both capable of and that feels fulfilling to these travelers, even if that means that local construction workers actually undo the day work done by the volunteers and redo it every night.

The most common type of volunteer abroad is teaching English, and there are plenty of options out there. While English instruction in and of itself is extremely useful, many volunteers who come to teach English have no teaching experience, no experience teaching English as a foreign language, no experience managing large classrooms and no experience with the local language. I quickly learned in Senegal that I am actually a terrible Senegalese English teacher.

We should ask ourselves important questions: what skills will volunteers will bring to the NGO? Would we be building capacity more by using local Tanzanian staff instead of foreigners for this work? Including the costs of finding work for the volunteers and managing their activities, would it be cheaper to use local staff? Are the volunteers meant to be learners or teachers? Are they treated as such? How much staff should be allocated to managing the volunteers?

In fact, it seems that students, the local community and beneficiaries of these foreign volunteers often view the volunteers as tourists (at best) rather than useful vehicles of skill transfers.  In Arusha, young female volunteers are a hot commodity in the dating market. The Tanzanian men who date them are affectionately known as “Rastitutes” for their supposedly appealing dread locks. There’s a nastier word for the young female volunteer who dates a rastitute, but I’ll keep it clean here.

As many volunteers are often young and inexperienced, they usually need guidance navigating a foreign country. Using NGO staff to manage their experiences can’t the best use of labor, as opposed to managing scholarships for poor students, implementing entrepreneurship training or distributing bed-nets. Donor cash should be held accountable to the mission of the NGO, if not actual measurable development outcomes. Does teaching a British volunteer about Tanzanian food and music fall under the poverty alleviation mission of this NGO?

As a personal note, aside from personal experience as a volunteer in Senegal, witness of mission creep of NGOs to accommodate volunteers in Tanzania, I’m also on the board of directors of a small educational NGO in Minnesota that is considering accepting volunteers in Sub-Saharan Africa. I'm pushing back.

I have the following table from my preliminary Meatu district health data. It still blows my mind because it basically contradicts all my previously held thoughts about religion, Tanzania and contraceptives.

First of all, 67% of households interviewed did not identify with any religion, not even traditional beliefs. This contradicts everything my Swahili teacher told us about being a good East African ("one should always at least identify as a major religion, even if one never prays"). I guess not so in Meatu? People do report being largely fatalistic, though. 35% of women report that their fertility decisions (do you want another child?) are "up to God" and this group is made up of only one quarter of those that identify with a religion.

The real kicker, though, is the fact that couples who identified with a religion were more likely to use contraceptives. You can see from the number of households and the number of women reporting contraceptive use that the sample size is small. However, Catholics (88 households) have almost twice the overall rate of contraceptive use! Someone tell Paul Ryan?

My hypothesis on this second observation is that affiliation with a larger religion in these extremely rural villages is actually a signal of being more cosmopolitan. There's also a good chance that official doctrine in the Catechism of the Catholic Church isn't making its way all the way to Mwajidalala and Longalonhiga. I'm not complaining.

As for any explanation for the dearth of reported religious identification, my only hypothesis is that I asked the wrong person. I asked men. This time around, I'm asking women. I'm otherwise extremely surprised that individuals don't identify as more religious.

I'm accepting any and all theories, hypotheses and shots in the dark as to why.

My take on this answer basically comes down to what my mom told me is "making conversation," but it matters more when you have exactly one hour with someone important.

1. Introduce yourself with some interesting things and say a bit about what you study. The big shots meet a lot of people- make yourself unique, confident and engaged.

2. Be excited about what you study or plan to study, even if you're still early in your research or not sure what your topic will be. Say something brief that you're passionate about exploring (migration and domestic work?) or mention a really cool research question (what is the impact of remittances on school choices?). Step 1 and 2 are really important if the big shot meeting is over lunch. She needs time to eat.

3. Ask for advice. That's basically why your advisor sets up these lunch opportunities for you. The person you are lunching with is a big shot and she is taking time to speak to you. Run your research ideas by her and see what she thinks. Ask for paper recommendations (top three favorite fertility papers?), fieldwork suggestions, good conferences and other folks to talk to on your subject.

4. If introductions, research topics and advice don't generate enough conversation, ask questions. These should be specific, but not overly technical, questions (in the talk you gave this morning, why did you decide to use that instrument? Is it fairly well established in the labor literature?) Also ask questions about the direction of research in your field. Don't make the guest have to create conversation about the weather.

5. It's OK to play the name game. You went to undergrad with her former advisee and softball teammate? Sure. Everybody loves this person? Great, start the conversation with an awesome person you both appreciate. I do this all the time. The academic world is small and this is bound to happen anyway.

Valuable lessons on how to be an academic that aren't on the syllabus... or taught anywhere.

Scenario 1: Don't expect good feedback if you don't plan to give any. I've seen this happen plenty of times. It's not a crime to leave early or skip all other presentations, but it certainly doesn't make you a generous scholar.

Scenario 2: The Peacock. This one really grosses me out.

Student B: looks agitated throughout the student’s reading, and can barely sit through the next two papers. His hand shoots up during the Q&A session [or, in economics, well before]. 'Yes, this isn’t a question, but rather a comment, for the first reader–I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name. [doesn't bother to check program or wait for the student to tell him her name] But in listening to your essay, I wondered if you had considered... read... knew that X wrote an article on the subject in Very Important Journal……realized that your point has already been made by these 5 other Important People'...We should carry peacock feathers to wave around when this happens, so people can have a visual cue that they’re engaging in the vain behaviors of the peacock, grandstanding away, parading their knowledge for the world to see.

So, I agree that peacock feather grandstanding should be called out and reduced. It happens a lot (especially in economics?) and its gross. I don't go to great lengths to not embarrass people, however. If  someone hasn't read a crucial paper in their field that is extremely relevant to this paper, I would let them know without hesitation. I'm not gonna avoid corrective comments completely, but I'll employ the normal-person manners that my parents taught me. But likewise, I don't expect others to go particularly soft on me.

But concern for sensitivity aside, during a presentation, we should be contributing constructive comments, not insulting one another or promoting our own agenda. And having presented to sociologists, historians and political scientists, I find that economists tend to be harsher than folks in other fields. I think this is partly because we interrupt each other. While I actually prefer interruptions as opposed to holding questions all the way until the end, we really do need to keep our grandstanding in check. Sit on your plumage and have some manners.

It's actually like running a small business.

Here's why:

1. Income. I have applied to at least 16 sources of funding (and counting). That's 16 proposals, 16 budgets (because each grant/fellowship wants their own budget) and <16 sources of income (can't win 'em all).  I finally made a separate bank account for research monies, but that was a year into fieldwork. Why didn't anyone tell me to do that earlier?

2. Labor. I have employees in Tanzania and am occasionally surprised to find that I am the boss there. I'm thankful that I have actual professional work experience, decent leadership skills and excellent communication (for an academic, obviously).

3. Capital. That aforementioned research bank account that I finally opened? It includes reimbursed ATM fees (even internationally!), cheap international financial transfers and a personal banker that I can easily call up when I need another transfer to Tanzania (like, today). This type of fancy bank stuff does not come free to a graduate student with little capital, the account is co-signed by my dad.

4. I market my brand. I have a website.  I put some actual thought into the design and modeled it after doing some market research. Thanks, friends. In addition to getting valuable feedback from peers, the main point of going to conferences and giving talks in other departments is to market myself and my research.

5. I make my own schedule. My daily dissertation progress, or lack there of, is a cost or benefit that only I bear. Sometimes distracting and lucrative consulting opportunities fall into my lap. Sometimes its 72 degrees outside. Sometimes I stay in Tanzania way longer than I'd like. Often times, I work on weekends. No one is responsible for managing my time and risk, except me.

6. Zero personal life boundary. Why do my university and personal emails go to the same inbox? Because it would be too difficult to differentiate which emails are related to work/school and which emails are personal. My coauthors are my friends, I meet with students at 9pm, beer is often consumed over reviewer comments, I keep a change of clothes in my cubicle, my home bookshelf is dominated by textbooks and I live part-time in a researcher flop house.**

7. It's an unpredictable crap shoot. Sometimes I wake up at 4am and I have four emails from my employee (i.e. field assistant) that say we miscalculated some costs and I need to send cash, stat. Thus the value of #2.


**Based on this description, it is safe to say that I am single and child-less. I hope that this boundary might get a little thicker when I  a) am no longer a student and b) no longer single or child-less.

From @CBlatts:

We investigate whether the show [16 and Pregnant] influenced teens’ interest in contraceptive use or abortion, and whether it ultimately altered teen childbearing outcomes. …We find that 16 and Pregnant led to more searches and tweets regarding birth control and abortion, and ultimately led to a 5.7 percent reduction in teen births in the 18 months following its introduction. This accounts for around one-third of the overall decline in teen births in the United States during that period.

One third?? Wow.

I'm hoping for a 20% increase in the uptake of contraceptives in my research district in Tanzania, which may not even translate into a reduction in teen births at all.  And my intervention includes real people visiting homes, an attempt at solidifying the impact of the intervention with a very clear and personal message. 16 and Pregnant, on the other hand was a) optional b) could be turned off at any point c) is interrupted with commercials and d) may have included unclear and varying messages that affect fertility behavior in different directions.

The effect of TV shows on fertility behavior is not new, however, Brazil's soap operas had the effect of reducing fertility by showing happy families than are much smaller than the realistic size in Brazil at the time. How does one show send a positive message about smaller families and one show send a negative message about teen pregnancy? Artistic choice, I suppose, and probably something economists won't ever know.

Bongaarts and Casterline in Population and Development Review explore whether sub-Saharan Africa's fertility is systematically different from the rest of the world, a theory first posited by Caldwell (1992). The authors reject Caldwell's hypothesis that these countries are experiencing a different type of transition in which declines in fertility are occurring at older ages. However, they do confirm some unique characteristics of sub-Saharan Africa's fertility experience. First of all, in many regions, the decrease in Total Fertility Rate (TFR) has stalled, in contrast to the pattern of steep TFR decline in the earliest stages of demographic transitions in Latin American and Asia. And secondly, the small decreases in TFR are mostly driven by larger birth intervals rather than a desire for smaller families.

Except Rwanda. The Rwandan DHS shows an unusual pattern in which unmet need (as defined by women who do not want to get pregnant and are not using contraception) declined by nearly a half between 2005 and 2010, to which the authors credit the invigoration of a national family planning program. Contraceptives use more than doubled between 2005 and 2010. This stands in stark contrast to other sub-Saharan countries (e.g. Ghana, Burkina Faso, Kenya and Nigeria) where use of contraceptives has basically stalled since the mid-1990s.

What this paper doesn't answer is how the drivers of unmet need (e.g. lack of knowledge of contraceptive methods and supply; low quality and limited availability of family planning services; cost of methods in travel and time; familial objections and concerns about acceptability) that are propping up that green curve, can be fixed.

"Economists know a lot of stuff, the only problem is that a lot of it is wrong. What evidence-based economics or evidence-based policy is about is: party modesty (not thinking you know all the answers to all the questions), curiosity and a willingness to collect data"

That's Richard Thaler in an interview with Stephen Dubner, of Freakonomics, about using evidence to fight poverty. Both Thaler and Dean Karlan discuss the changing landscape of research on effective economic policies.

Perhaps this quote sums up my interest in impact evaluations and empirical work: soul-crushing preliminary exams keep me modest, graduate school generally fosters curiosity and I might be overly-willing to ship off to the developing world for the sake of insight into microeconomic decisions and fertility choices.