In a world divided over how to deal with such serious problems as terrorism, immigration, free trade, and climate change, governments agree on the urgency of solving what is arguably the biggest problem of all: supplying safe, well-located, and affordable housing for the billions of people who need it.
There is even agreement on the basic steps to that goal: improving land management and adopting more tenure-neutral policies.
There is also consensus on the fact that government alone cannot afford to pay the bill. According to McKinsey & Co., the annual price tag for filling the “global housing gap” ($1.6 trillion) is twice the cost of the global investments needed in public infrastructure to keep pace with GDP growth.
As we approach the 70th anniversary in 2018 of the declaration of housing as a “universal human right,” it’s time for governments to turn to an obvious solution for closing the housing gap that they continue to ignore only at their peril: long-term market finance. , and so will the odds of social discontent.
Latin America & Caribbean
As we discussed in our previous post, Global Value Chains can lead to the creation of more, inclusive and better jobs. . However, there is a potential trade-off between increasing competitiveness and job creation, and the exact nature of positive labor market outcomes depends on several parameters. Given the cross-border (and, therefore, multiple jurisdictive) nature of GVCs, national policy choices to strengthen positive labor outcomes are limited. However, national .
Regionalism can have three dimensions: trade integration, regulatory cooperation and infrastructural coordination. In a thought provoking blog, Shanta Devarajan argues for a drastic shift in focus, away from trade and towards infrastructure.
Regional trade agreements do sometimes divert not just trade but attention from other beneficial forms of cooperation. And what type of integration makes economic and political sense, in what sequence, differs across regions. But it would be wrong to exclude trade, to focus only on one dimension, and to ignore important new constraints and old questions.
I recently visited the small villages nestled in the mountains between Oaxaca and Veracruz to meet with women entrepreneurs running small forestry, toymaking, ecotourism and coffee businesses. I went to hear first hand their experiences starting businesses and taking on leadership roles in their communities. I also wanted to understand the challenges faced by them and generations of women to come.
Help needs to come immediately to save lives; recovery and reconstruction have to start swiftly to lessen the impact.
However, while money is critical to this response, it’s not just about funding. Indeed, funds need to match the event scale, target the right areas and sectors, and smoothly flow to communities in need. But in order for that to happen, sound public policy on risk and frameworks have to be in place.
To address both urgent financial needs while pursing strategic disaster risk management policy goals, countries have been using the World Bank’s development policy loan with a catastrophe deferred drawdown option or, more widely known as the Cat DDO.
“Comuna 13 (one of the poorest areas in Medellin) has gone from being a marginalized community to being a resilient one. Many interventions that are being implemented for the youth and adults allow them to have a better life. All of this generates spaces where one can see that the transformation brings love, happiness, and liveliness, which all contribute to have a better future.” – Peter Alexander, Community Leader
If all you know about Medellín is its troubled past, you’re in for a surprise. Medellin has been known as a violent city not only in Latin America but throughout the world. During the 1980s and 1990s, Medellín was considered one of the most dangerous cities in the world and the epicenter of the global drug war. In 1993, Colombia's homicide rate was 420 per 100,000 – the highest in the world. Medellin witnessed 6,349 killings in 1991, a murder rate of 381 per 100,000 people.
Women maintaining roads? As their job? Until recently, the idea was pretty much unfathomable in many countries. But in Peru, it isn’t. Since 2001, the Peruvian government and the World Bank have been working hand in hand to ensure female workers can play an active role in the routine maintenance of rural roads. This is part of a broader effort to reduce the gender gap in rural areas, and to improve women’s access to social and economic opportunities.
Over the last two decades, a series of ambitious projects have allowed the rehabilitation 30,000 km of rural roads, and supported maintenance activities along 50,000 km. This type of large-scale road projects has created significant economic and employment opportunities for local communities, and this is why we wanted to make sure women could get their share. To make this happen, we organized trainings, developed specific programs that would improve women’s access to resources, and worked to eliminate the barriers that disadvantaged women (e.g. requirements related to literacy or previous construction experience). The result? In 2013, female participation in rural road maintenance microenterprises reached 27% during the Peru Decentralized Rural Transport Project.
What is your dream?
Many people living in Peru dream of having a safe, well-built, multi-use bathroom that includes an adjacent area for a shower with a nice shower curtain and mirror and is constructed with bricks and cement, and has a wooden door and window. Sounds ordinary, right?
But for 2.4 million households in Peru this dream is out of reach because they have no access to credit lines, and the only way for them to construct an in-house bathroom would be by paying the entire construction cost upfront. This situation created an unexplored market estimated at $500 million – an amount large enough to attract private sector investors.
Not long after I joined the World Bank, I worked on a team assessing the extent and severity of land degradation in El Salvador. As part of this work, I went to visit the site of a soil conservation project that had been implemented a few years earlier and was considered extremely successful. Indeed, the project’s implementation report was full of numbers on linear kilometers of terraces built, and other indicators of success. Once we reached the project site, however, we looked in vain for any sign of a terrace. The terraces had once been there (there were photographs to prove it), but a few years later they no longer were.
That results may not last once a project ends is a constant concern. The extent to which it is actually a problem is hard to assess, however, as there rarely is any monitoring after a project closes.
My job brought me and my family to Lima, Peru 11 months ago. In case you have never visited Lima before, Lima is in many ways, a lovely city – it has fantastic views of the Pacific Ocean (you can surf right from the local beaches), great food, and vibrant neighborhoods, including a historic city center with Spanish architecture and churches. On the other hand, Lima is also know for its terrible traffic, unplanned urban growth, and informality.
As an urban development specialist, I can’t help but wonder how Lima could be better organized so residents can better enjoy all of the services and amenities the city has to offer. Is it possible?