Managing the International Health Crisis
Much of today’s media coverage of
global health issues is misleading. News stories tend to
focus on the controversies surrounding AIDS drug pricing
or the amount of funding necessary to combat the epidemic
successfully. Though these issues are important, they contribute
to a myth that HIV/AIDS is the only looming catastrophe
in international health and that cheaper drugs or a dramatic
infusion of money could soon turn the tide.
Those who pay closer attention and read sources outside
the mainstream get a more accurate picture. HIV/AIDS is
only one health crisis among many facing the world’s
poor, including maternal and child health, tuberculosis,
and cardiovascular disease. Moreover, no amount of money
could rapidly overcome all the other systemic barriers to
fighting disease in developing countries, such as undeveloped
infrastructure, weak political will, and a paucity of human
resources. Yet even by reading widely, a concerned citizen
in the U.S. might not appreciate one of the most critical
obstacles to fighting health inequal-ities. When D. A. Henderson,
leader of the successful World Health Organization campaign
to eradicate smallpox, was asked at a press conference what
disease the world should try to eliminate next, he surprised
the audience by answering, “bad management.”
Two years ago, I went to Rwanda as part
of a team dedicated to confronting the management problem.
The leaders of Rwanda’s Ministry of Health, aware
of our management support project at Columbia University’s
Center for Global Health and Economic Development, asked
the center for assistance in launching a new national HIV/AIDS
program. We went about recruiting candidates who had expertise
in strategic planning, quantitative analysis and communication—a
nontraditional profile of skills for public health work.
Occasionally, we had to struggle with the Columbia bureaucracy
to convince senior officials that someone with an M.B.A.
might be a better fit than someone with an M.P.H. In the
end, we assembled a small team that included a management
consultant, an accountant and a lawyer.
We arrived in Kigali, the capital city,
in summer 2003. When someone first asked me about my overall
impressions of the situation in Rwanda, I could think only
of Mikhail Gorbachev’s famous comment about the Russian
economy: “In a word, good. In two words, not good.”
Rwanda has made remarkable progress since the genocide,
particularly in the area of domestic security. The country
feels completely safe, with very little violent crime or
political turmoil, and corruption is relatively modest.
At the same time, Rwanda remains a deeply illiberal democracy
rooted in a culture of deference to authority. Moreover,
as a landlocked country with few natural resources, Rwanda
has little economic base outside of traditional subsistence
agriculture. Nearly half of the population is under the
age of 15, and the public education system cannot cope.
As we quickly learned, all of these problems
directly contribute to weak management, which in turn hampers
Rwanda’s ability to use the rapid influx of donor
money intended to address the problems. For example, the
government’s inability to pay adequate salaries to
civil servants results in a perverse set of incentives.
Rather than focusing on organizational objectives, health
officials spend much of their time trying to supplement
their meager salaries. For instance, officials often attend
training sessions run by international nongovernmental organizations
(NGOs) that offer per-diem payments for participation, even
if the topic is wholly irrelevant. One particularly clever
senior manager was almost never in Rwanda, aggressively
seeking invitations to overseas conferences that paid him
as much as $250 per day for hotel and food. He would quietly
stay in hostels for $10 a night, and simply pocket the difference.
Poverty also translates into shortsighted
thinking and planning. Investment in long-term improvements
is a luxury seldom contemplated, as most Rwandans are accustomed
to thinking about how to provide for their families. “In
the medium term,” one Rwandan joked to me, “we’re
all dead.” Everything operates on a short-term outlook.
No one knows when public holidays will be observed, as the
government tends to declare holidays at the last minute
by national radio broadcast. If you find a car with a tank
of gas more than a quarter full, you’ve likely found
an expat’s car—Rwandans don’t invest in
full tanks. This mindset endures even when capital becomes
available. Significant funds for HIV/AIDS are arriving,
yet the healthcare leadership does not tend to think about
resolving the bottlenecks that will hamper scaled-up treatment
three years from now, such as the critical need for more
nurses, doctors and laboratory technicians. Despite $50
million in HIV/AIDS funding this year, not a single new
nursing school is under construction.
Meanwhile, the deferential streak in the
Rwandan temperament contributes to workplace environments
in which very few middle managers feel empowered to take
initiative and their supervisors tend to micromanage. The
HIV/AIDS management unit that I was advising initially had
a system that required any staff member to sign a sheet
before leaving the office for any meeting or errand, justifying
the need for the excursion. One colleague occasionally wasted
entire days of work because he had run out of cell phone
minutes to make business calls, could not find another available
phone in the office, yet could not go into town to re-charge
his cell phone because the boss was not there to approve
his errand. In its extreme form, such deference to authority
becomes almost comic. One day, a prison work crew was landscaping
a public square in Kigali while the prison guard supervising
them sipped from his bottle of vodka. The guard eventually
passed out. Rather than making a break for it, the prisoners
respectfully picked the guard up and carried him back to
jail, then quietly returned to their cells.
My colleagues and I worked closely with
our Rwandan counterparts to begin the slow process of transforming
management culture in two key HIV/AIDS coordination offices.
I was responsible for advising Dr. Blaise Karibushi, the
leader of one of these units, and our first step was to
overhaul the implementation plan for the new national HIV/AIDS
program. We reversed the typical short-term approach to
planning and began by agreeing to three-year goals. We then
calculated the level of human resources and infrastructure
necessary to achieve these goals, and worked backwards from
there. Eventually, Blaise’s team designed a detailed
workplan and budget for the first year of the program. This
plan included investment in improvements that would not
yield any immediate benefit but would alleviate anticipated
constraints (such as a looming warehouse capacity problem)
in years two or three.
As the project progressed, Blaise and I
had more time to focus on the more complex challenges of
changing performance culture and management style. First,
we developed a completely new incentives scheme. We translated
the organizational workplan into individual workplans and
performance targets, and set aside a pool of money for performance-linked
bonuses at the end of the year. To make the system work,
we also instituted a series of regular performance reviews
for each person reporting to Blaise and asked those people
to create a similar process for monitoring their supervisees.
In a dramatic departure from the Rwandan norm, Blaise also
began to seek feedback from his subordinates. Though this
was initially very uncomfortable both for him and those
giving him feedback, the constructive criticism he received
helped him rethink his management style.
Responding to this feedback, we experimented
with new ways for Blaise to manage his team on a week-to-week
basis. We discarded the system of daily sign-off on everyone’s
intended activities. Instead, Blaise convened a weekly meeting
of unit heads every Monday and agreed with them on their
goals for the week. From that departure point, each unit
head was empowered to make any decision necessary to achieve
those goals. At the next weekly meeting, the team would
discuss any obstacles encountered and collectively agree
on strategies for overcoming them.
Over the year I spent in Kigali, progress
on all these fronts was halting. Unit heads were often slow
to seize their newfound autonomy. They usually felt more
comfortable gaining Blaise’s assent before finalizing
decisions, even where the decision was of only modest importance.
The performance management system was not easy to implement
in a context where many people claimed excuses for any shortfall,
pointing to electricity outages, unreliable implementation
partners and so forth.
Even as we focused on long-term management issues, I spent
over half my time helping Blaise react to unforeseen crises.
For example, the central health procurement agency notified
us one day that it had ordered HIV test kits for the next
wave of program expansion, but had neglected to order needles
for drawing blood. So I drove 10 hours north to Uganda and
bought 20,000 needles, enough to fill the gap for one month
until a new shipment arrived in Kigali.
I often wondered whether our strategy of
attempting to change management culture was the right one.
Effecting change was both slow and expensive. Indeed, the
amount of money used to cover my salary and expenses, though
modest by Western standards, would have financed ten Rwandan
salaries or funded treatment for 500 HIV-positive people
for one year. Ultimately, though, I became convinced that
the kind of work we are doing in Rwanda needs to be expanded,
because any small improvement in management has powerful
multiplier effects. The rate of staff turnover within the
management unit has decreased significantly because people
are more satisfied with their jobs. Even more importantly,
the gradual changes we made within the management team contributed
significantly to the proj-ect’s success in achieving
almost all of its first-year objectives. In turn, that success
attracted widespread attention from donors and the promise
of increased funding. With a long-term investment plan in
place, current and future financing will be channeled to
logically ordered improvements. Though combating the epidemic
of bad management is no easier than turning the tide against
HIV/AIDS, it is a fight equally worth fighting.
Dai Ellis ’93
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