Rising to a new dawn

One of the most beautiful things I look forward to, on my flights from Singapore to San Francisco, is getting to witness two sunrises in one day, in the air. It feels almost indulgent. The feeling of flying above the Pacific Ocean being lost in space and time – not knowing what time it is, or where exactly I am. You simply revel in the serenity of calming pastel shades, or take in the inspiration born from the clash of ravage colors in the sky.

Back in the bay area, nothing has changed. It feels like I’d never left?

Netherlands – Three Images

The San Francisco of Europe
Two Malay girls donning a hot pink tudung, spotting short mini skirts, audacious patterned stockings, and wearing their bras on the outside. It transported me back to one of those typical San Francisco love parades. A self-selecting crowd descends on this city where they can finally be understood. Add in the familiar smell of weed for full flavor.

World cup mania
Hup Holland Hup! The city decks itself in orange banners and streamers. An old man sits in his orange wheelchair with a beer in his hand. I noticed him a mile away because of the bright orange hat on his head shaped like a soccer ball. He spreads the world cup cheer to passerbys, mostly tourists who probably don’t understand a word.. but his smile and energy speak a universal language. To top it off, visit the airport restrooms and find orange toilet paper. Nuff said! It was enough to make me root for Netherlands this season.

Countryside
The countryside begins as soon as the city ends, what a breath of fresh air, literally. The tranquility of vast grasslands weighed down by fog, with an accompanying light drizzle. Grey shades of barns and windmills that are better appreciated from the distance. When you get close enough, you realize these have been preserved and manicured for all the tourist who get lost milling around in the souvenir shops.

Full Netherlands album here.

Glasses – the powerful image changer

Brilliant. Seen from Flowing Data.

Reflections on ChildFinance

Just in case one more person thinks I was kidnapped by some Amsterdam gremlins, I thought I’d better break the radio silence. It’s been a hectic time ever since I returned from the International ChildFinance Expert’s Meeting in Netherlands. Four days of good energy and learning, where the magic is truly in the people.

My respects for Jeroo and the folks at Aflatoun. What a feat of bringing together the accelerators with convening powers, the mavens of academics, the practitioners of financial education with immese ground experience and just about everyone who has done relevant work in this space. There’s a new exciting movement that is brewing to chart the way forward for financial education and access for children – at the age where habits start forming (from the researchers), and at the time when the marginal rate of investment is the greatest (from the policymakers).

Some quick lingering thoughts -

In some circles, the term financial literacy has become as taboo as entrepreneurship or web 2.0. The new focus is now on financial capability, with the ultimate goal of behavior change, as the result of having received a financial education. Yet, measuring behavior and action (what does it look like?) or involvement in existing financial systems (or a lack of involvement?) may not serve as good indicators of financial capability, especially in less-developed countries. The smartest of the poor deliberately exclude themselves from traditional financial institutions, rejecting savings instruments that offer 6% when inflation is standing at 16%. In fact, there were fascinating insights into what money management looks like in the poorest communities in the world. Recommended reading: Portfolios of the Poor.

Another exciting theme surrounds financial access, and the debate in creating child-friendly banking products with possible certification, ensuring appropriate safety and quality levels bounded by an ethical framework. Talks of easing in control gradually until kids turn 14, removing transaction fees and a minimum balance. No surprise that the bankers were demanding a business case, mirroring the rather tragic move when UK scrapped their Child Trust Funds just a few weeks ago, which I thought was a brilliant scheme when first introduced.

There was a clear dichotomy in the problems faced in the developing vs. developed worlds. At the lower levels of poverty, asset building is non-monetary as people invest in cattle, jewelry or relationships that may offer a better return. Was surprised to learn of the 90% savings rate in one case study, where survival literally depends on the ability to save up meager, irregular and unpredictable incomes – you don’t need to teach them how to save. I made a case that unlike the developed world, entrepreneurship in this instance is no longer a choice, and resonated immensely with the Teach a Man to Fish initiative in Paraguay – a rural education where students learn earned income strategies and graduate with a business. Ironically we have savings problems in developed countries, where you find complete financial inclusion but amateur knowledge on getting involved. It led me to scribble down this framework, revealing the importance of timing and matching financial education, capability and access. An important question raised in the academic track to ponder as well – Are we to claim that money is the equitable currency across the board?

On a side note, (this was not on the agenda but arose out of private discussions). I’ve always resonated with Mohd Yunus’ principles and the microfinance model, but have become a little apprehensive of how it’s evolved. Some MFIs are now a monolithic corporate structure, with funding from commercial banks and private equity firms, set in deregulated environments charging anywhere from 30%-85% interest, with a high repayment rate. This makes for a reliable super-profit machine with returns of over 50% and naturally attracts an overabundance of capital. Disbursement pressure skews responsible action and loan placements. Why does this already sound familiar? Even if we ignore the business case and revisit first principles, shouldn’t we advocate putting savings into business capital instead of just taking out a loan? It’s a myth that most of the poor cannot save.. transferring the control of money to the women sometimes works wonders.

And so I left with even more questions than before, but am ever so excited to get involved in these discussions going forward and hope to shape a product that could fundamentally solve the problem. At the heart, we all believe in the empowerment of children and to treat them as part of the solution. There’s always a fine balance between over-strategizing, and gaining momentum with madly passionate folks who have the gut-level indignation of the status quo. And I guess it’s only fitting to end off with Audrey‘s famous quote of the meeting – Let’s not forget to just let the kids have fun.

What Is Intelligence, Anyway?

(From the autobiography by Dr. Isaac Asimov)

When I was in the army, I received the kind of aptitude test that all soldiers took and, against a normal of 100, scored 160. No one at the base had ever seen a figure like that, and for two hours they made a big fuss over me. (It didn’t mean anything. The next day I was still a buck private with KP – kitchen police – as my highest duty.)

All my life I’ve been registering scores like that, so that I have the complacent feeling that I’m highly intelligent, and I expect other people to think so too. Actually, though, don’t such scores simply mean that I am very good at answering the type of academic questions that are considered worthy of answers by people who make up the intelligence tests – people with intellectual bents similar to mine?

For instance, I had an auto-repair man once, who, on these intelligence tests, could not possibly have scored more than 80, by my estimate. I always took it for granted that I was far more intelligent than he was.

Yet, when anything went wrong with my car I hastened to him with it, watched him anxiously as he explored its vitals, and listened to his pronouncements as though they were divine oracles – and he always fixed my car.

Well, then, suppose my auto-repair man devised questions for an intelligence test. Or suppose a carpenter did, or a farmer, or, indeed, almost anyone but an academician. By every one of those tests, I’d prove myself a moron, and I’d be a moron, too.

In a world where I could not use my academic training and my verbal talents but had to do something intricate or hard, working with my hands, I would do poorly. My intelligence, then, is not absolute but is a function of the society I live in and of the fact that a small subsection of that society has managed to foist itself on the rest as an arbiter of such matters.

Consider my auto-repair man, again. He had a habit of telling me jokes whenever he saw me.

One time he raised his head from under the automobile hood to say: “Doc, a deaf-and-mute guy went into a hardware store to ask for some nails. He put two fingers together on the counter and made hammering motions with the other hand.

“The clerk brought him a hammer. He shook his head and pointed to the two fingers he was hammering. The clerk brought him nails. He picked out the sizes he wanted, and left. Well, doc, the next guy who came in was a blind man. He wanted scissors. How do you suppose he asked for them?”

Indulgently, I lifted by right hand and made scissoring motions with my first two fingers. Whereupon my auto-repair man laughed raucously and said, “Why, you dumb jerk, He used his voice and asked for them.”

Then he said smugly, “I’ve been trying that on all my customers today.” “Did you catch many?” I asked. “Quite a few,” he said, “but I knew for sure I’d catch you.”

“Why is that?” I asked. “Because you’re so god-damned educated, doc, I knew you couldn’t be very smart.”

And I have an uneasy feeling he had something there.