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innovations
TECHNOLOGY | GOVERNANCE | GLOBALIZATION
Special Edition for the 2008 Annual Meeting of the World Economic Forum
Innovations: Technology | Governance | Globalization is co-hosted by the Center for Science and
Technology Policy, School of Public Policy, George Mason University (Fairfax VA, USA) and the Belfer
Center for Science and International Affairs, Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University
(Cambridge MA, USA). Support for the journal is provided in part by the Lemelson Foundation; the
Schwab Foundation for Social Entrepreneurship; the Ash Institute for Democratic Governance and
Innovation, Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University; and the Center for Global Studies,
George Mason University.
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innovations
TECHNOLOGY | GOVERNANCE | GLOBALIZATION
Editors’ Introduction
3 Philip Auerswald and Iqbal Quadir
Lead Essays
7 Social Innovators with a Busines Case: Facing 21st
Century Challenges One Market at a Time
Klaus Schwab and Pamela Hartigan
13 Beyond Lending: How Microfinance Creates New
Forms of Capital to Fight Poverty
Fazle Abed and Imran Matin
About Innovations
Innovations is a journal for, and about, people using technology and novel modes of
organization to address global challenges.
The journal was launched in the winter of 2006 as a publication of MIT Press, jointly
hosted at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government (Belfer Center for Science and
International Affairs) and George Mason University's School of Public Policy (Center
for Science and Technology Policy).
The journal’s advisory board is led by John Holdren, and includes two former U.S.
Presidential Science Advisors, a former NASA Administrator, the chief counsel on the
Science Committee of the U.S. House of Representatives, the publisher of Foreign
Affairs, and R.K. Pachauri, co-recipient on behalf of the U.N. Intergovernmental Panel
on Climate Change (IPCC) of the 2007 Nobel Peace Prize.
In its first eighteen months of publication Innovations has established itself as a signif-
icant new journal of high editorial standards, uniquely focused on solutions in the
public interest. Innovations has published twelve original cases authored by innovators,
spanning domains of impact from rural enterprise creation to open-source agricultur-
al biotechnology, the siting of a nuclear waste facility, and the creation of a virtual
world. Six of these cases are included in this special edition for the 2008 Annual
Meeting of the World Economic Forum.
mitpress.mit.edu/innovations
innovationsjournal.net
Philip Auerswald and Iqbal Quadir
Editors’ Introduction
If nature has made any one thing less susceptible than all others of
exclusive property, it is the action of the thinking power called an
idea… He who receives an idea from me, receives instruction himself
without lessening mine; as he who lights his taper at mine, receives light
without darkening me. That ideas should freely spread from one to
another over the globe, for the moral and mutual instruction of man,
and improvement of his condition, seems to have been peculiarly and
benevolently designed by nature…
—Thomas Jefferson, Letter to Isaac McPherson, August 13, 18131
An English country doctor by the name of Edward Jenner discovered in 1796 that
inoculation of humans with cowpox conferred immunity to smallpox. To describe
the process Jenner coined the term “vaccination,” derived from vacca, the Latin
word for cow. When the British Royal Society assented to publish Jenner’s findings
in 1798, the work was greeted more with derision than with acclaim. Few believed
that fluid from a diseased animal could confer benefits to human beings. The
doubters were mistaken. Vaccination became a widespread practice. In 1966 the
World Health Organization (WHO) launched an effort to eradicate smallpox on a
global scale. By 1980, almost two centuries after Jenner’s discovery, there was no
longer a single case of smallpox anywhere in the world.
By what process did the invention of the vaccine ultimately lead to the global
eradication of a dread disease? Jenner’s work obviously was only the beginning of
a long story. The eradication effort required leadership and long-term vision,
detailed planning, flexible organization, ingenuity, and hard work on the part of
Philip Auerswald and Iqbal Quadir are the founding co-editors of Innovations.
Auerswald is also Director of the Center for Science and Technology Policy and an
Assistant Professor at the School of Public Policy, George Mason University, and a
Research Associate with the Belfer Center for Science and International Affairs at
Harvard's Kennedy School of Government.
Quadir is also Founder and Executive Director of the Legatum Center for
Development and Entrepreneurship at MIT. Previously Quadir was a Lecturer at the
Kennedy School of Government and a Fellow with the Center for Business and
Government at Harvard University. He founded GrameenPhone in collaboration
with Grameen Bank of Bangladesh and Telenor AS of Norway.
This essay is derived from the editors’ introduction to the inaugural issue of
Innovations that appeared in Winter 2006.
many people. Initially employing a child’s toy construction kit, scientists at the
Lister Institute in London developed a method of freeze-drying the vaccine, aiding
in storage and transport. Benjamin Rubin of Wyeth Laboratories collaborated with
Gus Chakros of the
Reading Textile
By focusing on the particulars of Machine Company to
design the bifurcated
practice, Innovations is intended to needle, aiding in
administration of the
complement existing journals, vaccine.2 To address
providing a common space that cuts problems faced in the
practice of large-scale
across academic disciplines, bridges vaccination, field-
theory and practice, and links workers involved in
the WHO eradication
human action with global impact. effort developed novel
approaches, including
smallpox recognition
cards, watchguards, reward programs, rumor registers, and containment books.3
Managers and supervisors encouraged experimentation by field workers, and facil-
itated communication among them.
Discovering the process of vaccination required insight and ingenuity; ending
smallpox required a series of innovations.4 Other cases exist in which technology
and novel forms of organization have been employed to address public challenges
on a global scale. Yet while problems with major implications for social welfare
may be the first to get attention, those with relatively easy answers usually are the
first to be solved. In part for this reason, the magnitude of present challenges
exceeds that of past successes. In an era in which the secrets of the genetic code
have been unraveled and fundamental processes of life are being newly under-
stood, people everywhere still face a future marred by the stark realities of global
climate change, the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction, and the spread
of infectious disease. And while the beneficial impacts of technological change
have been dramatic, they have not been broadly shared. The majority of people in
the world continue to live in persistently poor places, where the local environment
is deteriorating and sickness is a daily fact of life.
Existing institutions and incentive structures may or may not be adequate to
address these challenges. If the past is any guide, continued progress in addressing
public challenges will require continued innovations—the efforts of individuals,
groups, and communities who creatively employ new organizational forms, and in
many cases new technology, to effect discontinuous change.
This journal is about such innovations and the changes that they bring about.
It is less about what needs to be done, and more about what people are doing. Our
purpose is to capitalize on the fundamental nature of innovations. Innovations can
be copied and possibly scaled up. Innovations open up new possibilities and cre-
ate the ground for yet more innovations. By drawing attention to innovations in
the public interest, we intend to encourage critical thinking about them, and to
spur their proliferation.
1. Text from the Electronic Text Center at the University of Virginia Library, <http://etext.vir-
ginia.edu/jefferson/quotations/jeff1550.htm>; archival reference given as ME 13:333. A taper is a
candle.
2. Jack W. Hopkins, The Eradication of Smallpox: Organizational Learning and Innovation in
International Health, (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1989).
3. Lawrence B. Brilliant, The Management of Smallpox Eradication in India, (Ann Arbor, MI:
University of Michigan Press, 1985).
4. In preparing this brief description of smallpox eradication we benefited from Chun Wei Choo,
“The World Health Organization Smallpox Eradication Programme,” unpublished manuscript.
<http://choo.fis.utoronto.ca/fis/courses/lis2102/KO.WHO.case.html> last accessed 2/8/2005.
If there is one thing about which public and corporate leaders around the world
today can agree, it is the ever-growing importance of innovation. The search for
innovative solutions to the world’s myriad local, national and global challenges has
become a clarion call rallying people across multiple borders defined by nation,
industry, and academic discipline. Yet policy making reflects deep ambivalence
about innovation. The cheerleading over innovation exists in contrast to the myr-
iad institutional, legal, regulatory, and educational impediments to the work of
innovators.
While not innovation experts, we have been privileged to interact over a span
of decades with the some of the world’s most recognized innovators—from those
working at the grassroots to those at the helm of new industries. This has provid-
ed us with some perspective on the nature of innovation and the hurdles innova-
tors face daily as they search for ways to disseminate their approaches and prod-
ucts.
Education is a good place to start. A society’s capability to innovate arguably
begins, or possibly ends, in school.1 For the vast majority of primary schools,
among the qualities of a “star” pupil are tidiness, adherence to rules and directions,
and good behavior. In the later grades, outstanding achievement is measured in
grades, standardized test scores and sometimes, the number of extracurricular
activities undertaken. These constitute the ticket to acceptance to top schools pro-
ducing the world’s elite. But it is not clear that this is how to develop the talents of
tomorrow’s innovators.
The educational system is reinforced by employment policies in most govern-
ment institutions and corporations. When reviewing candidates, recruiters invari-
ably look for evidence of academic achievement and a steadiness that produces
good exam pass rates and grades rather than for experiences that might suggest a
candidate is innovative and inspired, perhaps even rebellious. This is because most
Professor Klaus Schwab is the Founder and Executive Chairman of the World
Economic Forum and Co-Founder of the Schwab Foundation for Social
Entrepreneurship. Dr. Pamela Hartigan is the Managing Director of the Schwab
Foundation.
This essay originally appeared in volume 1, number 4, of Innovations.
organizations have a low tolerance for mistakes. Risk-averse societies and organi-
zations keep people from failing. They also keep them from trying. And the key to
successful innovation is initial failure and persistence.2
It is hardly surprising, then, that among the commonly shared experiences of
successful innovators is the recollection of having been described at some point as
crazy, not just by acquaintances, but by family, friends and close colleagues. Almost
by definition, innovators are mavericks. Most organizational structures and their
corresponding managers and civil servants deal with what is. Innovators do exact-
ly the opposite. They focus on creating things the world has never seen. They sys-
tematically disregard bound-
aries—whether of nation, aca-
demic discipline, or social sta-
While the world clamors for tus—to the predictable annoy-
innovation, it tends to deprive ance of those who consider it
their responsibility to keep
innovators of the resources boundaries in place. An irony
and recognition that would results: While the world clamors
for innovation, it tends to deprive
maximize their potential to innovators of the resources and
transform societies for the recognition that would maximize
their potential to transform soci-
better eties for the better The challenge
of innovation in the 21st century
is therefore also about reshaping
societies to be not only tolerant,
but actually welcoming, of innovators.
In the case of the innovators using technology on which this journal focuses,
past innovation heroes had their impact on business. From the individual bril-
liance of Thomas Edison came the global powerhouse that is GE; from the unique
inspiration of Kiichiro Toyoda came the car company of today that continues to be
a global standard setter. In the coming century, however, the greatest opportunities
for innovation exist in domains of public service heretofore left to governments.
Social innovators who have taken a business perspective today are pioneering new
approaches and helping to map out future markets where most would only see
looming problems and risk. In doing so, they are the harbingers of the biggest mar-
ket opportunities of the century. And history suggests that they have at least as
much chance of shaping the twenty-first century as many of today’s great incum-
bent businesses. On current trends 75% of 2001’s Standard & Poor’s 500 will have
disappeared from the S&P index by 2020. In their stead, companies unheard of
today, using new business models, will be delivering products and services to new
and existing markets, dislodging incumbents who have not been able to innovate
fast enough to keep up with 21st century needs.3
Already today, there are hundreds of such innovators who are reaching new
markets, serving unmet needs, and creating new supply chains. This journal
recently profiled KickStart and its founders, Martin Fisher and Nick Moon.
Kickstart designs, produces and sells appropriate technologies to rural entrepre-
neurs in some of the world’s poorest markets, allowing them to start small-scale
businesses. In 2005, KickStart sold over 8,400 pieces of equipment that helped start
5,964 businesses generating an additional $5.3MM in annual profits and wages for
new businesses. Martin and Nick have ventured into territory no mainstream com-
pany would dream of entering—and in doing so, they have paved the way for a
new group of producers and consumers to emerge.
Dr. Devi Prasad Shetty is meeting unmet needs of a different sort through an
innovative business model in health. An Indian cardiologist, Shetty’s organization,
Narayana Hrudayalaya, strives to make sophisticated healthcare available to all in
India. His network of hospitals is able to provide 60% of treatments below cost or
for free, thanks to drastically reduced costs resulting from high volumes, innova-
tive cost saving methods and donations. A network of 39 telemedicine centers
reaches out to patients in remote rural areas. Two health insurance programs pro-
vide coverage for 2 million farmers at Rs 120 per year (USD 3). Again, innovators
lead the way in coming up with business models to provide quality health care for
the poorest who cannot afford it—while sustaining and growing the enterprise.
In Nigeria, Isaac Durojaiye has both created a new product and tapped into a
new source of labor. His company, Dignified Mobile Toilets (DMT) is the first
manufacturer of mobile toilets in West Africa. DMT makes, installs and maintains
thousands of public toilets in Nigeria through a franchise system providing job
opportunities to members of youth gangs that oversee the daily maintenance of
the facilities and keep 60% of the profits. The toilets are placed in high traffic areas,
such as bus stations and markets, where there is a high demand for sanitation facil-
ities. Thus, DMT offers an alternative to current widespread and unhygienic prac-
tice of using the street as a toilet. It also aims to attack the unemployment situa-
tion, particularly among youth. More than half of the population of Nigeria is
under 35 years of age, and many are unskilled. While Nigerian employment statis-
tics are under debate, it is believed to be in the range of 17%, with an even higher
rate among urban youth. Up to 55% of the unemployed are secondary school
graduates, underlining the fact that education and skills do not guarantee employ-
ment.
Sub-Saharan Africa is not the only region where new solutions are needed to
address emerging models of participation in the work force. Sara Horowitz is
spearheading a form of portable unionism to promote the interests of the growing
number of independent workers in the United States. Unlike traditional trade
unions which are limited by law to employees of workplace-based organizations,
Working Today, founded by Horowitz, provides flexible and portable benefits
applicable to an increasingly mobile and decentralized workforce adjusting to the
changing contours of the U.S. and global economy. It has built a membership of
16,000, including 10,000 independent workers who receive health insurance. Its
model could be expanded to address the needs of the more than 30 million inde-
pendent workers across the U.S.—and beyond.
The more acute the societal challenge, the greater need for an innovation-driv-
en societal transformation. Global climate change is number one on the list in
terms of the magnitude of the challenge and in terms of the scope of the required
response. The climate challenge in this century will not be solved by changing
power plants, designing new automobiles, or reformulating gasoline. It will be
solved, and must be solved in this generation, by people changing their behaviors
and their institutions. National policies, corporate programs, venture financing
and consumer behavior will all contribute. But if they are counted upon to be the
drivers of change, that change sim-
ply will not occur. To catalyze the
shift, the general population must
The more acute the societal be spurred to action, in turn pres-
suring governments.
challenge, the greater need One such catalyst is Yann
for an innovation-driven Arthus-Bertrand, a photographer
who has demonstrated through
societal transformation. creativity and perseverance that
there is no real North-South divide
when it comes to environmental
threats. Bertrand produced a series
of extraordinary books, exhibitions and films introducing us to our planet from
the air. Like most innovators, he is unrelenting. He has taken over 100,000 images
just to put together “Earth from the Air.” As one of his colleagues put it, “With him,
I learned that nothing is impossible. People will tell him ‘No’, and he hears ‘Maybe’.
And herein lies the strength of such innovators—and their common bond. The
word “no” doesn’t exist for them. As Barry Coleman, co-founder of Riders for
Health,4 has quipped, “There is nothing as motivating as when someone tells us ‘It
can’t be done’. It is our call to action.”
What set of incentives will lead to the deep diffusion across society of the capa-
bility to innovate and the inclination to respect and value innovators? The first
place to start is to step beyond paying lip service to the importance of innovation
in the public interest. Acknowledging the role innovation must play in addressing
the challenges of inequity is a prerequisite. But to date, and except in a small num-
ber of wealthy countries, such as the U.S., U.K., and the Scandinavian countries,
governments have played a modest role in financially supporting innovation, par-
ticularly when directed towards social transformation.
The vacuum has been only very partially filled by venture capitalists, private
investment, and philanthropy—individual and corporate. Thus, among the exam-
ples of social innovators highlighted previously, not one of them secured national
public sector support—other than international aid—when launching their initia-
tives. While one might argue it is better not to be financially supported by a gov-
ernment in the early phases of the venture in particular—because it can compro-
mise the ability to be truly innovative—the existing financing vacuum evident as
these social ventures scale up cannot be filled by wealthy individuals or enlightened
1. We recognize that a vast number of children in poor communities must abandon their formal
education after the primary school years. Yet patterns of learning are developed at the primary
level.
2. Thomas Edison is oft-quoted as saying. “I have not failed. I have found 10,000 ways it won’t work.”
3. Richard Foster and Sarah Kaplan, 2001. Creative Destruction: Why Companies That Are Built to
Last Underperform the Market—And How to Successfully Transform Them (New York: Random
House).
4. Working with Ministries of Health and NGOs in African countries, Riders for Health builds local
capacity to maintain and manage motorcycles and other vehicles, enabling health care workers to
reliably service remote areas. As a result, RfH is able to operate fleets of vehicles in the harshest
conditions with a zero breakdown rate for five years or longer. RfH has demonstrated that a prop-
erly managed vehicle under its system will save more than 50% of costs over a six-year period,
compared to an unmanaged vehicle. RfH has been able to lower infant and maternal mortality in
targeted communities. With each motorcycle it runs, 20,000 receive primary health care every
year.
Beyond Lending
How Microfinance Creates
New Forms of Capital to Fight Poverty
The very idea of microfinance has changed banking as we knew it. Providing small
loans to the poor, mostly women, replaces physical collateral with collective
responsibility. Today, microfinance is an established way to provide financial serv-
ices to the poor. It can be scaled up in widely different environments around the
world, and can deeply benefit the people it serves. It allows the poor both to take
advantage of opportunities and to manage their vulnerabilities.
The focus of the innovations in microfinance has itself evolved. In the early
days of microfinance, the focus was much more “social:” how to form groups in
ways that would most effectively enforce collective responsibility? How to motivate
women to form their own groups? How to motivate people to save for a period
before lending them money? How to respond to negative responses from the bet-
ter-off and the religious groups in a community? Then, as the focus shifted from
social questions, microfinance began to become more professionalized and was
scaled up. Soon, innovations related to basic loan management followed. Along
with the focus on financial sustainability, innovations in microfinance included
better management information systems, and management systems that could
increase productivity and internal control.
During the middle 1990s, the pendulum began to swing back to the client end,
as criticisms of one-size-fits-all types of microcredit gained ground. The initial
focus on product innovations in the credit domain was soon followed by a call to
expand innovations to a whole range of financial services beyond credit, including
savings, insurance, and money transfers.
In this article, we focus on a different source of innovations in microfinance:
using the process capital of microfinance to design innovations that can address a
far wider range of constraints facing the poor. We will also discuss the strategic
F. H. Abed is the founder and chair of BRAC. Imran Matin directs BRAC’s Research
Division and its Africa Program. Corresponding author Imran Matin can be reached
at <imran.m@brac.net>.
This essay originally appeared in volume 2, number 1/2, of Innovations.
The Schwab Foundation for Social Entrepreneurship has recognized Fazle Abed as
an Outstanding Social Entrepreneur.
linkages between microfinance and other approaches that innovators must con-
sciously design into the package if microfinance is to be truly inclusive. To illus-
trate our argument we provide some examples from Building Resources Across
Communities (BRAC) in Bangladesh.
The greatest power of microfinance lies in the process through which it is pro-
vided. Women form groups of their own choosing, known as Village Organizations
(VOs) to engage with a formal institution; even this process reflects a significant
redefinition of a traditionally very patriarchal contract.1 Moreover, staff members,
who are of a higher socio-economic status,
engage in a very meaningful act simply by
going to the doorsteps of these women to
The greatest power of do business with them, and seeking their
microfinance lies in the help in solving problems; this practice
process through which it begins to redefine the relationships within
socio-economic hierarchies, and between
is provided. formal institutions and poor women. In
an institutional environment that is gener-
ally exclusionary, uncertain, unpredictable
and at times openly hostile to the poor,
microfinance staff follow a process that goes like clockwork: rule-bound and
almost ritualistic, it opens up the possibility of a new culture of expectation and
keeping promises through engagement between the poor and external institutions.
For their part, institutions create their own strong foundations as they learn
the art and science of managing large-scale microfinance operations. They must
engage with the details of developing systems and procedures, understand incen-
tives and the psychology and motivations of staff and clients, and come to grips
with the details of developing a performance-driven management culture and sys-
tem that requires constant vigilance.
core element. More important for the arguments in this paper, BRAC uses the
process capital of microfinance as an entry point to address other constraints and
to open up new opportunities for the poor. We provide some examples in this sec-
tion.
Milking more
Livestock rearing is another popular activity among poor households in
Bangladesh; here women also play a key role. Many BRAC members were using
their loans to invest in livestock. On average, local breeds can produce 1 to 1.5 liters
of milk a day, being milked for 250 days a year, but a 25% improved variety will
typically yield 6 to 8 liters a day with a total of 270 milking days in a year. Clearly,
improvements in livestock breeding could lead to significant opportunities. In
1985 BRAC piloted an approach similar to its poultry worker model to develop a
cadre of workers to artificially inseminate cattle.
The government was the main provider of insemination through its 1,100
Livestock Artificial Insemination Centers. Despite their numbers, however, the
centers were distant from many of the rural households rearing livestock. This led
to two problems: the expense and inconvenience of bringing livestock to these cen-
ters, and the problem of timing. A cow is usually in heat for 24 hours, and the opti-
mal “heat period” only lasts about six hours. Due to lack of outreach, many rural
livestock rearers did not know about the government services. Moreover, the gov-
ernment facilities relied predominantly on liquid livestock semen which required
refrigeration and had to be used within three days. This meant that centers had to
be located in areas with electricity and much semen was wasted. Or, if they used
out-of-date liquid semen, cows did not conceive. This led to a vicious cycle of dis-
satisfaction and lower demand.
After some research, BRAC developed another approach. Through VO
members, it recruited their husbands or male relatives who had a secondary
education, and trained them in modern methods of livestock rearing and arti-
ficial insemination. Its partners were Bangladesh Agricultural University and
Bangladesh Livestock Research Institute, which had excellent technical knowl-
edge in this area. Initially, a few women were trained along with the men, but
the work involved traveling long distances on bicycles, and administering the
semen. It was more suitable for men.
Instead of liquid semen, BRAC used frozen semen which had no expiry date
but did need liquid nitrogen for storage. BRAC currently purchases liquid nitro-
gen from Bangladesh Oxygen Limited and distributes it in cylinders to its 55
Livestock Artificial Insemination Centers across the country. The trained Livestock
Artificial Insemination Workers (LAIWs) come to these centers on fixed days of
the week to buy the frozen semen.
The LAIWs buy a single shot of frozen semen for 70 taka (roughly US $1) and
provide on-farm service to the livestock rearers for 100 taka. BRAC provides them
with regular training and the basic equipment they need. The average LAIW earns
about 2,500 taka a month. The conception rate is over 65% which is higher than
the internationally acceptable standard of 50%. Demand is rapidly increasing for
the LAIWs’ services, so their income is growing.
BRAC used posters, popular theater, and “miking” to publicize the LAIWs’
services and the importance of modern methods of livestock rearing. “Miking” is
a very popular way to spread various types of information in Bangladesh, especial-
ly in rural areas. A rickshaw, bicycle, or scooter is decorated with posters and a
microphone is placed in the front; it is then driven around the villages to make
announcements. The microfinance VO meetings and networks are also used to
inform people about improved breeds and the opportunities they offer.
Initially, to facilitate service delivery at the community level, BRAC used “post
boxes” placed in villages so that people who needed the service could leave a note.
With the massive expansion of cell phones in Bangladesh, BRAC is now providing
the LAIWs with loans to buy phones. The name and number of the relevant village
LAIW is displayed throughout the village and in the BRAC area office, and is pub-
licized through the microfinance VO network.
Making rights real for the poor: BRAC’s Human Rights and Legal Services
For the poor, especially women, a crucial constraint is lack of knowledge about
their legal rights and difficulties accessing legal services when they need them.
Without such knowledge, poor women can lose the few resources they have and
become even more vulnerable within the society. Often when Bangladeshi women
slide into poverty and dispossession, legal disempowerment is a key element in
that slide.
BRAC sought a cost-effective mechanism to address this constraint. It started
from a promotive perspective, providing human rights and legal education
(HRLE) for its members. It trained group members as cadre legal volunteers to
provide this training to others. With the help of leading national legal experts, it
developed innovative training materials such as flip charts to provide training on
basic rights and essential legal issues in the areas of inheritance, marriage and vio-
lence against women. Each group member pays the legal volunteer about 15 cents
(10 taka) for her services and BRAC pays another 15 cents. To maintain continu-
ity, BRAC formed local Law Implementation Committees (LICs) consisting of the
top three learners in an area; they maintain close links with other BRAC members.
During 2006, over 10,000 HRLE classes were held for over 200,000 BRAC mem-
bers.
BRAC was well aware that once it took hold, this basic knowledge about rights
would lead members to call for more direct legal action to support the poor.
Indeed, BRAC soon formed a partnership with two leading legal-aid NGOs in
Bangladesh to help BRAC members and other poor in the community resolve their
conflicts through alternative dispute resolution. If women need to go to court,
BRAC provides legal advice and assistance through a cadre of panel lawyers who
are paid a modest honorarium for their services. They provide assistance with
issues like polygamy, dowry, dower and maintenance payments, divorce, physical
torture, and land-related disputes. As of December 2006, a total of over 42,000
complaints had been made and over 50% were resolved. So far, almost 3,000 cases
have been filed in local courts, and over 35% have been resolved. The program has
succeeded in obtaining about US $1.2 million in monetary compensation for its
members in various cases.
The fact that all these cadres of volunteer workers are recruited from the VO
members helps in many ways. The VOs are the focus of BRAC’s delivery structure,
including microfinance. Typically, a VO consists of 35 to 40 members who are
formed into smaller groups of five. This structure provides a ready market for serv-
ices, arising from the initial access to microfinance. Though most of the volunteers
have little education and low socio-economic standing, they are members of the
VOs and are trained and certified by BRAC, so their fellow VO members trust their
services as they would not trust villagers outside the VOs. Fellow members can also
hold them to account for their services more effectively than outsiders could. As
their services became established within the secure and controlled environment of
the VO, they can then extend them to market beyond the VO membership.
Making microfinance inclusive is the new mantra. The focus, however, is not only
on new financial products, but also on designing socio-economic processes that
create strategic linkages with microfinance. Because the various hitherto un-served
groups face different constraints, they may require a wider set of introductory
non-microfinance interventions so they can make the best use of microfinance
itself. The key challenges here involve packaging and sequencing. Another is how
to develop appropriate incentives and management systems that do not distort the
process, but instead create synergies. In this section, we briefly describe several
ways that BRAC is challenging itself to make microfinance truly inclusive.
those who received the monthly ration card became regular clients of BRAC’s
microfinance program.
A CGAP (Consultative Group to Assist the Poor) study found that the average
woman in the VGD program received a subsidy of about US $135, which is fairly
small, considering that the overwhelming majority of IGVGD women graduated
out of their need for continuous handouts. As more of the VGD women graduate
to BRAC’s microfinance program and as they improve the quality of their lives,
BRAC will likely be able to recoup these subsidies.
BRAC’s experiences with IGVGD demonstrated that it is possible to create
opportunity ladders out of the safety nets for those who are left behind by conven-
tional microfinance. So BRAC became even bolder, and experimented further with
this concept. BRAC noticed that the IGVGD approach helped the great majority of
its participants to benefit from regular microfinance programs, but a significant
minority still failed to reach this stage. More worryingly, those who failed to “make
it” were among the poorest of the poor.
They also saw several reasons for this situation. Sometimes, the local represen-
tatives selected participants based on political motives and other forms of self-
interest. More importantly, the VGD women often failed to get the full benefits of
the window of opportunity that the food transfer provided, because two or more
of them tried to share one VGD card. Sometimes, the cards had to be “bought’—
which often meant selling the cards, in advance, to wheat dealers to raise the
money for the “payment.’’
BRAC felt the need for a program that would give it more control over these
processes; it also wanted to design a specific window of opportunity in which the
extreme poor (those spending 80% of their income on food, yet not being able to
attain 80% of the calorific requirement) could build solid ground and then move
forward.
In January 2002, to address these challenges, BRAC started a new experimen-
tal program, “Challenging the Frontiers of Poverty Reduction: Targeting the Ultra
Poor,” or TUP. The program seeks to “push down” the reach of development pro-
grams, specifically targeting the ultra poor through a careful methodology that
combines participatory approaches with simple survey-based tools. During the
period 2002-2006, it worked with 100,000 ultra-poor women.
The whole idea behind the CFPR/TUP approach is to enable the ultra poor to
develop better options for creating sustainable livelihoods. This requires a combi-
nation of approaches; some are promotional, such as asset grants and skills train-
ing, and others are protective, such as stipends and health care services. It also
means attacking constraints at various levels: within households and in the wider
environments of institutions, structures and policies. The CFPR/TUP approach
aims to deliver on all these fronts; BRAC hopes that the initial subsidy in this
approach, which will be heavier than the IGVGD, will reap benefits by allowing the
extreme poor to build a more solid and comprehensive base from which to move
ahead.
After two years of intensive grant-based support, the members of the
small loans. As of December 2006, over 272,000 adolescent girls had become mem-
bers of ELA and formed over 9,000 ELA groups, each consisting of 15 to 20 mem-
bers. Over 87% of them have taken on a loan averaging US $70. They have saved
in total almost $3 million.
In addition to helping the adolescents begin their journey in becoming eco-
nomically self- reliant, ELA has recently begun to develop a social space called ELA
Centers, where members can expand their social opportunities, become involved
in other groups, and learn to act as social change agents in their home, family and
community.
As of December 2006, BRAC had managed to motivate over 50% of the CSWs
in the six brothels where it is working to form their own groups to save and bor-
row. It has disbursed a total of over US $57,000 in loans to the CSW borrowers,
with the average loan about $190. The members have been able to save over
$16,000 during these years.
Bridging the gap with the basic spirit of microfinance: Financing micro and
small enterprises
The basic spirit of microfinance is to search for possibilities based on knowledge,
understanding and perspectives that start at ground level. It is this keen and
nuanced understanding that allows those involved in microfinance to select clients,
segment markets, enforce loan contracts, manage loan repayment problems, and
make everyday decisions. A good microfinance staff member has to be a barefoot
economist, a sociologist, and a psychologist, all at once. When staff members can
take this incrementally accumulated sense of life on the ground, with all its twists
and turns, and combine it with the arts and sciences of management structures
and incentives, they can facilitate successful scaling-up operations.
This kind of spirit, and the organizational culture that nurtures and sustains it,
is critically important in breaking into new market segments, especially when the
segment is informal and unknown, like the micro and small enterprise market seg-
ment. Most of the micro and small entrepreneurs operate in the market’s informal
segment, and lack the kinds of formal documentation that conventional financial
institutions typically use for appraisals. These entrepreneurs have little or no access
to traditional mechanisms of loan enforcement. Anyone appraising the potential
to grow and repay loans has to take the person’s financial abilities into account
using innovative means, but must also take on social tasks that conventional bank
representatives are often not suited to do well.
BRAC realized that a sizable portion of its existing microfinance clients were
entrepreneurial enough to handle larger loans and grow their businesses; it also
saw a large unserved market consisting of micro and small entrepreneurs. It knew
that growth in this segment of the market was important for generating employ-
ment, which would lead to local economic growth. So, in 1996, it initiated
Microenterprise Lending Assistance (MELA), a special lending program for micro
and small entrepreneurs. As BRAC gained experience with the needs of that mar-
ket and learned to manage its program more efficiently, it divided the MELA pro-
gram into two segments: UNNOTI (meaning development) with loans ranging
from US $215 to $715, and PROGOTI (meaning progress) with loans ranging
from $715 to $4285. Like those in DABI (Daridro Bimochon—“Poverty
Alleviation” in Bangla), BRAC’s core microfinance program, UNNOTI clients
must form groups and attend meetings to take on loans, while PROGOTI clients
are served individually. To receive loans, PROGOTI clients must open a bank
account; however, UNNOTI clients only need a passbook for their transactions
with BRAC.
and remittance passbook. Through an intranet, the BRAC Bank Head Office in
Dhaka is connected with all the branch offices; it can send transfer advice to the
relevant branch office overnight. The registered beneficiary comes to the branch
office with card and passbook, fills in a withdrawal slip, and gets the money with-
in minutes.
For each transaction, BRAC Bank sends BRAC a service charge of 175 taka (a
bit over $2). BRAC Bank processes close to 35,000 remittance transactions every
month, largely through this innovative partnership with BRAC. Although BRAC
Bank is a very new entrant into this market, it already has an overall remittance
market share of 4% and has been able to capture 35% of the remittances to
Bangladesh that had been routed through Western Union.
This partnership is not only about providing convenience, speed and low-cost
transfers. To discourage people from using hundi, (because the money is unac-
counted for, it can be used to finance drug business, terrorism etc.), BRAC Bank is
using the popular theatre program of its Social Development Program, which runs
over 29,000 popular theatre shows every year in the nation’s villages.
A study by International Organization for Migration, having looked into the
patterns of remittance use in Bangladesh, sees several factors that constrain the
further investment of remittances in productive sectors. They are primarily areas
where the country lacks resources. For example, Bangladesh has few resources for
promoting information, advice, training and other services relating to investment
in new and potentially successful sectors. It also has few ideas about investment
opportunities, and those receiving remittances have little expertise in running
businesses. If some of these constraints can be alleviated, conditions will improve
for all parties involved, including the financial institutions involved in the remit-
tance business. Then, larger remittances can flow more regularly and those who
receive them will be more interested in other financial products.
With this in mind, the BRAC Bank, in partnership with BRAC, is developing
new products; one is Probashi DPS, a special deposit pension scheme for
Bangladeshis working abroad. BRAC is also encouraging the registered beneficiar-
ies among its members to open savings accounts and take out loans to start enter-
prises. BRAC Bank is encouraging the beneficiaries to consider taking out SME
loans against the savings from remittances. BRAC Bank is also offering insurance,
against accidents and disability, which pays out up to US $1,400. The policy is sim-
ple: it is valid as long as the remitter commits to making at least one transaction in
65 days.
Globally, given the huge un-served and under-served demand for microfinance
and the lack of solid institutions, another large unfinished agenda exists: to ensure
that the largest number of poor people can have reliable and reasonably priced
access to different kinds of financial services. But we must also find innovative
ways of doing more.
1. The village organizations are the gateways and nucleus of all BRAC development activities.
Typically, a VO consists of 30 women and is a federation of small 5-member groups. Each small
group has a group leader and the VO members will nominate one of them to be the VO chairper-
son. The VO will also have a treasurer. Currently BRAC has over 170,000 VOs all over Bangladesh.
2. BRAC since its beginning has paid serious attention to evidence leading it to set up its own in-
house Research and Evaluation Division in 1975. This Division has over the years played a signif-
icant role in evaluating BRAC’s development programmes and identifying gaps for improvement.
A number of new BRAC programmes, such as its special Program for the ultra poor, emerged out
of research and evaluation. For more about BRAC’s Research and Evaluation Division, see
<www.bracresearch.org>.
Income Is Development
KickStart’s Pumps Help Kenyan Farmers
Transition to a Cash Economy
Innovations Case Narrative: KickStart
Within less than a generation, poor families in Africa have been thrown from
essentially a subsistence lifestyle into a primarily cash-based economy. Ability to
earn an income is suddenly a paramount skill. Yet approaches to encouraging
development continue to be based on the assumption that the primary need of
people in poor places is something other than a way to make money—better
healthcare, education, water, housing, and so forth. This is misguided. Providing
these will not end poverty. In a cash economy, money is the primary means to
securing other vital resources. Except in a few very remote areas of the world, if you
ask a person in a poor place what they need most, they will tell you that it is a way
to make more money. The way to address the challenge of persistent poverty is to
create sustainable income-earning opportunities for millions of people. Income is
development.
I am the co-founder of KickStart, a nonprofit social enterprise that has for the
past fifteen years employed design principles to address the poverty challenge in
Kenya and Tanzania. KickStart designs and markets low-cost pumps and other
capital equipment that have been used by thousands of farmers to establish high-
ly profitable commercial enterprises. This market-based approach to development
“kick-starts” a sustainable cycle of wealth creation, brings poor people into the
middle class, and eradicates the effects of poverty from the ground up.
KickStart’s best-selling tools are foot-powered irrigation pumps that enable
poor farmers to switch from subsistence to commercial irrigated farming. With
Finding an alternate way forward meant rethinking the poverty problem from its
fundamentals. First, we would not focus on the urban poor. Why? Of the 1.1 bil-
lion people who live on less than $1 per day worldwide, fully 70% are small-scale
rural farmers who are trying to scrape out an existence on an acre or so of unpro-
ductive land. In sub-Saharan Africa—despite the more visible shocking conditions
in the urban slums—over 80% of the poor are rural farmers.
Five years in Kenya had been long enough to make us aware also of the extraor-
dinary physical isolation of these rural farmers. The few roads that exist are pot-
holed dirt tracks that often become un-navigable after a heavy rain. The average
poor farmer does not own a bicycle (much less a motorbike or a car) and lives
miles from the nearest road. Farmers and their families have no addresses, no elec-
tricity, and no telephones. They often only come to their closest marketplace—a
small village with a couple of almost-bare-shelved shops and an empty plot where
farmers can sit on the ground and hawk their produce—a few times a month and
to a bigger town only a few times a year. Their primary contact with the outside
world comes when they see a newspaper or listen to a radio—most often owned by
a better-off neighbor. They have limited access to markets or information and very
few distribution and marketing channels can be used to reach them.
Sickness is a constant fact of life. Education is a route out of poverty. So fami-
lies that get beyond subsistence typically seek to educate their children and gain
access to curative healthcare. Wealthier families can purchase basic furniture, light-
ing at night (from a candle or kerosene lamp), soap to wash with, chickens or a cow
to improve their diet, basic cosmetics, and better clothes to wear. The relatively rich
in rural areas of East Africa will have access to transport and communication, a
lead acid battery for lights, a radio for information and entertainment, and poten-
tially a small black and white TV.
All of these things cost money. Farmers can no longer grow enough food for
their family on their small plots of land, and no longer hunt for food and skins, or
gather building materials from a local forest. And despite attempts by governments
to provide education and
healthcare, the poor must
The mantra of “give it away” still pay for school uni-
forms, books, and even
creates completely inappropriate teachers, and for drugs
incentives, leading to patronage and advice at local phar-
macies or clinics. Many
and dependency, instead of self- must buy cooking fuel
sufficiency and entrepreneurship. and all have to pay for
clothing, soap, lighting,
cosmetics, transport, and
communication. In fact—
like other people in poor rural regions elsewhere in the world—they are being
compelled to make the transition from subsistence to a cash economy.
This is a major change—one at least as profound as the fall of the Berlin Wall.
Indeed, the two transitions are related. During the Cold War, African governments
received enough aid to provide free education and healthcare and to highly subsi-
dize the cost of basic commodities such as maize and cooking oil. Farms were big-
ger—populations have grown rapidly and farms have been divided with every new
generation—and poor families could grow enough to eat, collect building materi-
als and fuel in the forest, sell a small portion of their grain to buy subsidized cook-
ing oil and school uniforms for their children, and survive to live another year. But
with the end of the Cold War aid to Africa has decreased ten-fold and subsistence
lifestyles have became virtually impossible. Governments no longer provide free
health care and education, and the prices of essential commodities have been
decontrolled; in Kenya, for example, cooking oil doubled in price when it was
decontrolled in 1992.
In this context we undertook to evaluate the appropriate technology move-
ment, in which millions of dollars had been invested with few notable successes.
In the course of drafting a detailed plan for our new venture, Nick and I came
The readers of this journal are not asked to build their own computers, cars or
watches; why, then, should we try to train poor people to design and build their
own tools? Nor can high-quality machines and tools be produced in very small-
scale, undercapitalized, under-skilled, local workshops. They must be mass-pro-
duced in medium-to large-scale production units, using well-designed production
tooling (jigs and fixtures), efficient production methods, and skilled technicians.
These production units must be highly motivated to keep the quality up and the
prices down. Hence they must be private-sector factories and they have to make a
good margin on manufacturing the new technologies. Sometimes NGO work-
shops and training schools were used to manufacture the new machines and tools
but these are not set up to do high-quality, low-cost manufacturing—and they
rarely ever did.
Finally, appropriate technology efforts followed the wrong dissemination
strategies. At first, appropriate technology ideas were spread by running expensive
training courses for people in the local communities and expecting them to man-
ufacture and use the new technologies. When this didn’t work well NGO and
donor-run appropriate technology centers were established where local people
could see the technologies and learn how to make or use them. When this failed to
produce results the movement published hundreds of books and manuals on how
to build and use appropriate technologies. Almost nobody used private-sector
manufacturing, distribution and marketing channels to produce, market, and sell
the technologies—so even if people saw the technologies at a demo center or in a
book they had no way to actually get hold of them.
The challenge as we saw it was to embrace both meanings of “appropriate”: not
only designing technologies “appropriate” to the poor, but also designing tech-
nologies that people in poor places could themselves appropriate and use to
advance their own ends.
loan from her brother. She has now sent her two daughters to university and
bought her own plot of land. She employs three workers, sells oil to a local school
and hospital, and contracts with 20 local farmers to supply her with seeds.
While we were happy with these successes we soon realized that if we were
going to have a major impact on poverty we had to focus on new business oppor-
tunities for poor rural farmers. For them, by far the best business to start was one
that would move them from subsistence rain-fed farming to commercial irrigated
farming.
Irrigation allows farmers to grow three or four crop cycles per year instead of
the one or two possible with rain-fed agriculture. It enables them to grow high-
value crops such as fruits and vegetables and get higher yields per acre. Best of all,
with irrigation, farmers have crops in the off-season when the supply is low and
the prices are high.
Of course in order to use irrigation a farmer needs access to water on his or her
farm. Not surprisingly, throughout history people have settled most heavily in
those areas where surface and ground water is most available. So many millions of
safely left in the field. So we designed a portable pump that could both pull water
from a stream or shallow well and pressurize it through a hose pipe to push it up
a hill or through a sprinkler system. However, the pump was heavy and bulky to
carry, and KickStart had not yet established an efficient supply chain for our tech-
nologies. We only sold a few hundred pumps.
In 1995 Bob Hyde, an American former marketing executive, joined KickStart
and convinced us that while we had identified the right business opportunity, we
had not yet designed the ideal technology. For cost-effective distribution and mass
marketing we needed a much smaller, lighter-weight irrigation pump. Bob also
helped us greatly improve our distribution, sales, and marketing functions. In the
following years we developed and marketed a line of low-cost manually operated
irrigation pumps. Our first pump was a small portable suction-only pump that
could pull water from a shallow well and dump it into a channel for furrow or
flood irrigation. But clearly in Kenya a pressure pump was going to sell much bet-
ter.
So we developed the “Super-MoneyMaker” irrigation pump. Its name gets
right to the point. This small, portable “stair-master-like” machine has both suc-
tion and pressure capabilities. It can pull water from a hand-dug well as deep as 25
feet—or from a pond, lake, or stream—and can pressurize it to a total height of 50
feet above the water inlet. It can push water through a hose pipe as far as 400
meters, spay it through a hand-held nozzle or sprinklers and can be used to irri-
gate as much as 2 acres of land. The pump weighs 45 pounds and is easily carried
to the farm and from one spot to another for irrigating wider areas. It retails in
Kenya for $95. It enables farmers to grow multiple harvests of high-value cash
crops such as fruits, vegetables, and flowers. The economic and social impacts of
this technology have been remarkable. The average net farm income of farmers
using this pump has increased ten-fold from US$110 per year before buying the
pump to US$1,100 per year after buying it.
The pump literally lifts farmers from poverty into the middle class. For exam-
ple, Janet Ondiek was widowed in 1999 and left completely destitute on a two-acre
plot of land in Western Kenya with her 6 young children. With no income, she was
forced to take her children out of school and beg from her relatives just to survive.
But she grew a small plot of cabbages using a bucket to draw water from the stream
running through her property. One day, while selling her cabbages in town, she saw
our pump being demonstrated in a local shop. After working six months to save
money, and taking a small loan from her sister, she bought the pump. Within the
first year, she repaid her loan, employed two young men to help her irrigate, plant-
ed a full two acres with cabbages, kales, and tomatoes, and opened a small shop to
sell her produce in the local town. She made $3,200 profit in her first year and was
able to send her kids to a private school. When we visited her a few years later she
had rented additional land and employed four young men to help her in the fields.
We have since introduced the MoneyMaker-Plus—a single-cylinder version of
the more expensive Super-MoneyMaker—that retails for $55 and can irrigate one
acre. We are test-marketing a very low-cost pump called the MoneyMaker-Hip
Nick and I built KickStart based on a set of basic learned truths (see box at right),
learned from which we developed a systematic five-step model:
y identify profitable business opportunities;
y design tools and equipment to make those business opportunities possible;
y establish a profitable supply chain;
y develop the market; and
y end subsidies and leave in place a profitable private-sector supply chain.
Surrounding this model is an ongoing impact-monitoring effort that not only
measures our results against the goal of moving people out of poverty, but also
provides critical market intelligence and feedback for improving each step of the
process.
ing required for high-quality mass production. This is a major challenge in Africa
because of inconsistencies in the strength and dimensions of local raw materials,
the lack of advanced production machines and the shortage of skilled labor. We
have developed new manufacturing methods to help overcome these challenges
and we out-source the manufacturing to the largest, most experienced and best-
capitalized factories that we can find. However, we still have to train the produc-
tion workers and help to supervise the quality control.
We then buy the equipment from the factory and recruit existing local private-
sector players—wholesalers/distributors and retail shops—to establish a profitable
supply chain where everyone, including KickStart, makes money on every sale. In
many cases existing supply chains have to be strengthened to handle greater cash
flows and credit. In other cases we recruit and train brand-new distributors and
retail shops to reach the villages closest to the farmers. But the good thing is that
these are local business-people, they are motivated by earning money, they are in
the community to stay and they know the local customers. At present over 350
retail shops in Kenya and Tanzania sell our products. Most of them are small-scale
agricultural-veterinary shops that presently sell small packages of seeds, fertilizer
and other farm inputs, and we have shops in every high-potential city, town and
village. Many of these shops are little more than a single room; for most of them
our products are the most expensive items they have ever sold and all of them
require significant training in the operation and marketing of our products.
Finally, since our final customers are very price sensitive, we establish a nation-
al retail price that will be as affordable as possible while ensuring that the whole-
salers’ and retailers’ margins are competitive with their other products. Because
much of our initial marketing is national in scope (radio and newspaper advertise-
ments), the fixed final retail price is an important factor to both us and our cus-
tomers.
nologies and enter new markets so that we can further our mission of getting mil-
lions of people out of poverty.
out of poverty, so our most important indicator is how much more money the
people who buy our technologies make. We can then look both at the cost-effec-
tiveness of our program and at other indicators such as: How much labor do they
employ? What do they grow? Do they send their kids to school? Build new hous-
es? Improve their diets and health?
KickStart has developed a systematic, replicable method to measure our
impacts. Every product comes with a guarantee; every buyer (with the help of the
shop keeper) fills out the guarantee form when they buy the product at the retail
shop. These guarantees act as a marketing tool by reducing the perceived risk of
buying the product, and they give KickStart a database of all the buyers.
From this database, we develop a randomized, statistically valid sample of
recent purchasers. The sample represents 50 to 60 customers per year who com-
prise one cohort. To date we have monitored six different cohorts of pump farm-
ers in Kenya and Tanzania as well as users of our oilseed press in Kenya. These cus-
tomers are visited within a month of purchasing the products, before any impacts
have been realized, then visited again eighteen months later and a few of them
again after 3 years. The first visit creates a benchmark at zero impact, and the sub-
sequent visits measure impact.
Data collected during these visits include the status of all farm activities from
the previous year, crops grown, area under cultivation, production costs, income
generated, number of employees, wages paid to employees, who performs what
tasks (family, paid workers, men or women), other sources of income, number of
dependents and number of children in school, physical assets owned, any prob-
lems with the technologies, and the effectiveness of our marketing methods. Based
on these data we calculate the change in income and other social and economic
indicators that result from using the new technologies. In addition, we prepare
detailed case studies, deepening our understanding of the farmers and their new
businesses.
The monitoring team employs culturally appropriate methods, and uses mul-
tiple questions and observations of the individuals, household, and business to
cross-check and evaluate socio-economic conditions. For example, one person will
ask how much land is being irrigated and how many cabbages were sold from that
area. The other, who knows how many cabbages can be grown per acre, paces off
the area. Each team consists of one man and one woman to ensure that interac-
tions with owners and their families are comfortable and appropriate.
By collecting this data we can determine if we are having real impacts on
poverty and how effective our interventions are. Again, our mission is to move
people out of poverty, so measuring increases in net incomes is our primary con-
cern.
As a social enterprise, we also monitor our cost-effectiveness. Our donors are
investing their money and their trust in KickStart and we are very serious about
maximizing the return on their investment. Here we consider two numbers. The
first is an absolute number—how much in donor funds we spend to take a family
out of poverty. The second is a ratio, the Bang-for-the-Buck (BfB) —the sum of
The KickStart model is based on the power of the market: we use private sector
supply chains to help poor farmers acquire technologies that allow them to begin
highly profitable businesses and escape poverty. Yet KickStart is itself a nonprofit.
At present we spend $250 of donor funds for each family lifted from poverty
through the use of a $95 pump, and we recover only 20% of our costs from earned
income. Why? The reason is that it is not profitable for a private company to devel-
op and mass-market new low-cost money-making technologies to poor rural
farmers in Africa. Simply put, KickStart uses the market because we know that this
is the most cost-effective and sustainable solution, but we are a nonprofit because
we need to spend donor funds to overcome a classic market failure. To understand
this we need to take a closer look at this failure.
The generic challenges of doing business in the world’s poorest countries are
obvious—high political, security, and currency risks and poorly developed roads,
electrical grids, ports, and legal structures. But there are many profitable business-
es in Africa, and considerable potential for starting more. So clearly all these chal-
lenges can be overcome. What is so different about our market sector?
The critical difference is the very high marketing costs required to sell new “big
ticket” items—such as a treadle pump—to the poorest and most risk-adverse cus-
tomers in the world. They are unfamiliar with new technologies, undereducated
and rightfully fearful of making a mistake. In rural Kenya, as in many other places
in Africa, infrastructures for distribution, information provision, credit, and mar-
keting are all highly undeveloped.
The trajectory of adoption for capital goods sold to the rural poor creates an
additional challenge to self-sufficiency in our market. Usually when a new product
KickStart has received international recognition and has earned the support of
large companies and major foundations.5 With this support, KickStart has grown.
We currently have offices in Kenya (our African headquarters), Tanzania, Mali, and
the U.S., and employ over 200 people. Our staff includes a small team of engineers,
50 innovations / World Economic Forum special edition
Income is Development
designers, and technicians based in Kenya; management, impact monitoring, and
more than 125 marketing and sales staff in Africa; and five employees in the US.
Our African headquarters manages African-country sales and marketing, tech-
nology development, and all African-based administration, monitoring and
impact assessment, and fundraising. The U.S. office was established as a 501(c)3
nonprofit in late 2001 to handle overall management, financial control, strategic
planning, and fundraising. Our country offices in Kenya, Tanzania, and Mali are
primarily responsible for sales and marketing, essentially franchising our success-
ful products and marketing practices. They establish the retail and wholesale net-
works in their respective countries, and put in place cost-effective marketing activ-
ities to support and increase sales.
In the next three years we plan to expand into as many as four new African
countries, including Ghana whose government has taken note of our impact on
the GDP of Kenya and Tanzania. We are also implementing a business-to-business
model of sales to other NGOs to expand our impacts to the rest of the developing
world.
Carrying out these plans will require two business decisions. First, we plan to
focus on irrigation pumps, which already represent over 95% of our sales and
impacts. We believe the worldwide market potential for these pumps is as high as
35 to 40 million pumps, which would translate into a major contribution to reduc-
ing poverty in the developing world. Second, we plan to centralize mass produc-
tion and establish a global supply chain for the pumps. Rather than manufacture
pumps in every country, we will produce our best-selling pumps in the lowest-cost
location. We have recently ordered our first batch of Super-MoneyMaker pumps
from China, and we can import them into any African country at a lower cost than
we can produce them locally. Manufacturing in China will also allow us to serve
new markets. Lower prices and higher quality will benefit our tens of thousands of
customers, and global supply means we can sell to other organizations to increase
our impacts and generate income.
In addition, we will develop new technologies. We are market-testing our very-
low-cost “hip-pump,” which retails for $33, and are developing a low-cost deep-
well pump, low-cost well drilling, water harvesting and storage technologies, and
low-cost transport technologies.
KickStart is in the process of developing a financing model for our irrigation
pumps. For poor farmers the initial $120 investment for a pump, hose pipe, and
seeds is difficult to borrow or save—but since the pumps provide a very high
return on investment to the buyer they are an ideal product for a financing mech-
anism. Our goals are to increase sales by lowering the barrier to entry, move us
more quickly to the tipping point, and help KickStart recover more of the market-
ing costs.
To succeed we must examine lessons learned from past technology-specific
financing programs and other micro-financing efforts around the world. Past
efforts to give technology specific loans to the very poor have often failed because
they encouraged people to borrow money for things they don’t want or need—as
this is their only option for credit—and so led to many business failures. Micro-
finance programs partially solve this problem, and they have worked well in urban
and peri-urban areas in Africa. However, very few micro-finance programs have
found cost-effective ways to reach the poorest, hardest to reach, and most risk-
averse customers in the world—those in rural Africa.
KickStart will most likely develop its own model for pump financing. We plan
to rapidly roll out our marketing and retail networks, and we need a financing
method that can be rolled out just as quickly. It will likely be based in our retail
shops and may use entrepreneurial agents on bicycles to reach the farmers. It will
require very good vetting of the borrowers, and will have to get all the incentives
right for the loan agents and the borrowers. Among many ideas, we will explore
bundling the pumps with products and services such as fertilizer, seeds, and farm-
ing and marketing advice to increase the chances of the farmers’ success and loan
repayments. It will be a major challenge to develop an effective financing program;
however, we are confident that with enough determination and advice from oth-
ers, we can make it work.
CONCLUSION
ENDING POVERTY IS THE GOAL, CREATING INCOME IS THE MEANS
In poor places just as in rich ones, developing and marketing new technologies is
often too expensive for the private sector to do alone. In these cases governments
provide major subsidies to help overcome the market failures. In fact, every major
new technology from automobiles, to telephones, computers, the internet, solar
panels and biotechnology have received significant government subsidies, and they
continue to receive them today. For example, the sale of hybrid cars in the U.S. has
been greatly boosted by the government giving every buyer a tax credit of as much
as $3,400. It is well demonstrated that smart subsidies for new technology and
market development can help to fuel economic growth. However, the governments
of the poorest developing countries are too cash constrained to provide such sub-
sidies.
In the absence of the subsidies typically found in industrialized economies,
KickStart—whose mission is to get people out of poverty—uses donor funds as
smart subsidies to take over this role. We use them to subsidize the costs of devel-
oping the market for new moneymaking technologies. But once a tipping point is
reached and our products are as commonly known and easily available as sewing
machines or bicycles no further market subsidies will be required. Other compa-
nies will enter the market and compete with us on price, brand, quality, and distri-
bution. Many more money-making products will be sold at zero additional costs
to the donors, and more people will use them to escape from poverty.
However, reaching the tipping point will not happen quickly. The internet
required trillions of dollars of government funding and equity investments (and
losses) over a 15-year period before it created a few dozen profitable new business
models. It took Amazon.com ten years and over $3 billion dollars in investments
1. See for example comments by Mark Hankins, Energy Alternatives Africa, “Southern realities and
top-down marketing of the solar cooker.”
2. Humans can only generate about 80 watts of power over a sustained period of time. Our oilseed
press, for example, is almost an order of magnitude more energy-efficient than the best motor-pow-
ered oil expellers.
3. E. Rogers, Diffusion of Innovations, (New York: Free Press, 2003). Rogers describes a “critical mass”
or “tipping point” as the point where enough users have adopted an innovation so that the further
rate of adoption becomes self-sustaining, and shows examples where for innovations from cell
phones to hybrid seed corn this point occurs at around 15%-20% of the local market potential. This
market potential has also been discussed in numerous other publications (Wired, etc.)
4. See studies by Mark Hankins and/or Hugh Allen, including M. Hankins, Renewable Energy in
Kenya, (Nairobi, KenyaMotif Creative Arts Ltd., 1987), and M. Hankins, The Kenya Ceramic Jiko: A
manual for stove makers, (Stylus Publishing, 1992),
5. ApproTEC/KickStart have received recognition from the Tech Awards, the Schwab Foundation for
Social Entrepreneurs and the Fast Company and Monitor Group Social Capitalist Award; financial
support from the Skoll Foundation and the Lemelson Foundation; and corporate support from
John Deere and SC Johnson.
A Practical Path to
Increased Income
Innovations Case Discussion: KickStart
ment was essentially dead. Twenty years ago, I talked to a bright young man
who was part of a team of people developing a tool carrier for farmers in Africa.
He was convinced this new technology would be a major breakthrough,
because it would carry out all of the functions of plows, cultivators, seeders,
harrows, and carts, all with one basic tool. I had already talked to a lot of small
farmers by then, so I asked him a simple question: “How much will it cost?”
He scratched his head, and said he thought that was an interesting question.
He said he would make some calculations and get back to me. Right then I
knew that the tool carrier would never work. If you think like a tinkerer solv-
ing a technical problem, you will likely be able to come up with a technical
solution. But if you don’t design it for poor people as customers, it will likely
never be adopted. The first step in design for the poor is identifying the critical
affordability price point at which poor people become willing to vote with their
feet to buy it. To me, that was the tragedy of the appropriate technology move-
ment. E. F. Schumacher’s book Small is Beautiful inspired thousands of gifted
people around the world. The tragedy is that the appropriate technology move-
ment it inspired was implemented by technical tinkerers rather than hard-
headed entrepreneurs who design for the marketplace.
If you think of the poor as recipients of charity instead of as customers, you
invariably design goods and services that are too expensive to be affordable for
them as customers. Effective tools have to be customer driven and market driv-
en if they are to have any hope of being brought to scale. The key reason that
treadle pumps have had such a remarkably positive impact on poverty in many
countries is that their design was shaped and hardened by disciplined customer
feedback, and their marketing and distribution by the private sector around the
world was shaped by the poor customers who voted with their feet to buy them.
I applaud the success that Martin Fisher, Nick Moon, and KickStart have
had in helping more than 65,000 very poor families in Kenya and Tanzania
move increase their income by purchasing and installing treadle pumps, as well
as increasing the income of enterprises making, distributing and installing
them. Kickstart accomplished this by adapting the treadle pump technology
widely disseminated by IDE in Asia to the specific conditions of Kenya, and
establishing effective local private sector distribution and marketing systems.
As has now been thoroughly demonstrated in many developing countries, the
income-enhancing impact of treadle pumps comes not from the technology
alone. Rather, treadle pumps are effective because small farmers need afford-
able water control for their crops in order to switch from subsistence crops to
labor-intensive high value crops, like fruits and vegetables that they grow for
the market.
The impressive leverage KickStart obtained by using treadle pumps to stim-
ulate increased smallholder income through growing and selling cash crops
mirrors IDE’s earlier experience in Asia. Here is an example of the leverage
dle pumps. The impact of these treadle pumps on the net annual income of
smallholders exceeds US$220 million a year, not counting the increased income
of private sector supply chain enterprises making, selling, and drilling wells for
treadle pumps.
Because profitable private sector supply chains are designed to be the
instruments for putting the technology in the hands of small farmers, they con-
tinue doing so after formal project funding is terminated. The private sector
continues to sell and install 55,000 treadle pumps a year in Bangladesh and
India after IDE’s and development donors support for the program terminat-
ed. The multiplier impact on the economies of developing countries is already
in the range of $1 billion a year or more. All this is from one single affordable
water lifting technology customized for small farms!
Why has this single affordable small plot irrigation technology been so suc-
cessful? Over the past 15 years, many people have told me that IDE was very
lucky to have stumbled on the treadle pump. They said that this is a unique
technology, and we will never find another one like it.
I totally disagree. I believe that the biggest impact of treadle pumps is not
the increase in income for the 5 to 10 million families in the world who are like-
ly to install one. Instead, it lies in what we can learn from the treadle pump
experience that is applicable to ending the poverty of the 800 million people
who survive on less than a dollar a day, and earn their living from tiny farms.
A fact that has never been effectively incorporated into development theo-
ry and practice is the remarkably small size of the farms where most of the fam-
ilies who earn less than a dollar a day make their living. Farms under two
hectares represent 98 percent of the farms in China, 80 percent in India, 96 per-
cent in Bangladesh, 88 percent in Indonesia, 95 percent in Vietnam, 87 percent
in Ethiopia, 74 percent in Nigeria, 75 percent in Tanzania, 90 percent in Egypt,
98 percent in Russia, and 99 percent in the Ukraine (Nagayets 2005).
More importantly, average farm sizes in developing countries have been
rapidly shrinking. Average farm size in China went from 0.6 ha in 1980 to 0.4
ha in 1990; in India from 2.3 ha to 1.4 ha between 1971 and 1995; and in
Ethiopia from 1.4 to 1.0 ha between 1977 and 2000 (Nagayets 2005). This is
average farm size. The size of farms where dollar-a-day people earn their living
is much smaller—closer to one acre divided into scattered quarter-acre plots.
If increasing the income of poor people is the first step out of poverty, then
the obvious place to start is to increase the income the 800 million or so peo-
ple who now earn less than a dollar a day from one-acre farms. While most
small farmers put a high priority on growing enough food to keep their fami-
lies from being hungry, the notion that they should grow surplus rice, wheat,
and corn for the market suggests that they should compete in the global mar-
ketplace with Western wheat farmers who farm 3,000 acres with combines and
generous government subsidies. This is clearly untenable.
To take the first step out of poverty, one-acre farmers need to play to their
strength in the global marketplace, and that is the lowest labor rates in the
world. Their path to increased income is to grow marketplace-driven, high-
value, labor-intensive cash crops. This requires two things:
y Access to a whole new range of affordable small plot irrigation devices,
delivered by private sector supply chains.
y Access to markets for diversified high value cash crops, delivered by pri-
vate sector value chains.
The treadle pump is only the first of a whole new range of affordable water
lifting, water storage, and water distribution technologies that need to be devel-
oped to fit the income generating needs of small farmers. For the past ten years,
IDE and others have worked to developed affordable small plot irrigation sys-
tems. Some 200,000 have already been purchased, and I believe there is a glob-
al market for at least 20 million of them. Other affordable small plot water
technologies likely to have very large global demand include affordable sprin-
kler systems, enclosed water storage units, efficient surface delivery systems,
and micro-diesel pumps. The most important thing that we can learn from the
treadle pump experience is how to design affordable, customer driven small
plot irrigation technologies, and how to deliver them in large numbers to small
farm customers through private sector supply chains.
During the late 1980s, when farmers who had installed treadle pumps in
Bangladesh did so well, everybody at IDE believed that all a small farmer need-
ed to move out of poverty was to buy and install a treadle pump. At the height
of the integrated rural development movement I even wrote a paper called
“Segregated Rural Development,” which touted treadle pumps as the answer to
rural poverty. Later on, we found we could apply our intensive rural marketing
techniques to convince small farmers in the hills of Nepal to invest in low cost
drip-irrigation systems. But the farmers ended up not using them much, and
sales went down.
These were maize and millet farmers who had never grown vegetables, and
we had to implement a crash course in intensive horticulture to train them to
switch effectively from growing grain crops to producing off-season cucumbers
and cauliflower for the Kathmandu market. This made them a lot of money,
and sales of low cost drip systems took off. But farmers further away from the
road needed help to link up with traders who would buy their vegetables. This
made it clear to us that the process of generating new income for poor farmers
must start with an evaluation of the markets where they could sell what they
grow, and a recommended list of four or five high-value crops that farmers
could likely grow in their area, and sell in the markets they had access to.
I believe that 500 million of the 800 million dollar-a-day people in the
world who earn their living from farming could move out of poverty by switch-
ing to high-value, labor intensive crops, gaining access to the markets where
they can sell them through private sector value chains, and gaining access to the
affordable irrigation tools, seeds, fertilizer, and credit they need to grow them
through private sector supply chains. This is a far cry from a singular focus on
treadle pumps, but it is the remarkable global success of treadle pumps that has
opened the door to learning about the practical path to increased income for
millions of impoverished rural people.
References
Chapin, R., 1998. “Bucket Kits for Vegetable Gardens.” Chapin Watermatics.
Heierli, U. with Polak, P., 2003. “Poverty Alleviation as a Business.” Swiss Agency for Development
and Development.
Islam, A.S.M. and Barnes, G., 1991. The Treadle pump: Manual Irrigation for Small Farmers in
Bangladesh. Rangpur Dinajpur Rural Service.
Keller, J. et al., 2005. “New Low Cost Irrigation Technologies for Small Farms,” Proceedings of the
International Commission of Irrigation and Drainage (ICID). 19th International Congress on
Irrigation and Drainage. Beijing, September 10-18, Beijing, China.
Nanes, R, Calavito, L and Polak, P., 2003. Report of Feasibility Mission for Smallholder Irrigation in
Bangladesh. International Development Enterprises.
Nagayets, O., 2005. “Small Farms: Current Status and Key Trends,” background paper for the Future
of Small Farms Research Workshop, Wye College, June 26-29 <http://www.ifpri.org/events/sem-
inars/2005/smallfarms/sfbgpaper.pdf>.
Perry, E. and Dotson, B., 1996. “The Treadle Pump—An Irrigation Technology Adapted to the Needs
of Small Farmers,” GRID 8 (March 1996): 6-7.
Polak, P.,2005. “Water and the Other Three Revolutions Needed to End World Poverty,” Water
Science and Technology 51(8):133-143.
Postel, S. et al., 2001. “Drip Irrigation for Small Farmers: A New Initiative to Alleviate Hunger and
Poverty.” Water International 26(1).
Shah. T. et al., 2000. “Pedaling Out of Poverty: Social Impact of a Manual Irrigation Technology in
South Asia.” International Water Management Institute Research Report 45.
nologies were available in East Africa. The first technology was designed to drill
through soft soils, while the second was designed for drilling through hard soils
and even rocks. Both were intended to be used in conjunction with KickStart’s
low-cost shallow-well pump and deep-well irrigation pump.
The soft-soil drill performed well in feasibility tests and has since been pur-
chased by local entrepreneurs who earn money drilling boreholes for farmers.
Because the technology is low-cost relative to its income-generating potential,
well-diggers can recoup their
investment in less than six
months. Increased access to A growing number of non
water has reduced farmers’
burden of carrying water for profit and for-profit
domestic use and increased organizations are implementing
their income—they grow
more crop cycles per year, a new approach to international
plant high value fruits and
vegetables, and sell products
development, jointly
in the off-season when prices emphasizing entrepreneurship
are high.
The hard-soil drill proved
and technology.
more challenging. KickStart’s
prototype could drill wells as
deep as 100 feet through hard
soil and soft rock but could not penetrate the hardest rock formations common in
volcanic Kenya. Hence, the technology was deemed commercially unviable because
the cost of digging many incomplete wells that would be abandoned once boulders
were hit would drive the cost of running a well-digging business too high.
In 2004, The Lemelson Foundation granted $150,000 to KickStart to promote
its soft-soil well drill and other irrigation technologies in Tanzania. This funding
was leveraged by combining funds from other private donors and was matched
with a grant from the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) Global
Development Alliance. In three years, KickStart plans to sell over 7,000 pumps and
a smaller number of drills to very poor farming families in Tanzania. The farmers
are expected to make an average of $760 in new profits every year using the tech-
nologies, increasing their net incomes eight-fold. KickStart will also export at least
3,000 pumps from Tanzania to Mali, Mozambique, and Zambia.
Working with KickStart on these two projects helped the Lemelson
Foundation understand where to apply its resources most effectively. The collabo-
ration also shed light on the non-financial requirements of organizations like
KickStart. Finally, it highlighted the importance of partnering with the private sec-
tor and investing in market development to ensure impact by creating self-sustain-
ing change.
advice from developing country experts, the Foundation developed its interna-
tional funding strategy in 2003. The Foundation provides grants and loans to non
profit and for-profit organizations that design and disseminate technologies that
create self-sustaining positive impacts on people’s lives. The Foundation has con-
sidered vital lessons from the “appropriate technology movement” of the 1960s
and 1970s, and only supports projects that are driven by the needs and priorities
of local people.2 It also emphasizes entrepreneurship, favoring projects that help
poor people lift themselves out of poverty by creating income-generating oppor-
tunities.
To organize and analyze its grantmaking activities, the Foundation created a
conceptual framework called “Idea to Impact,” which outlines the process of tak-
ing an idea through the stages of conception, incubation, market development and
dissemination (see Figure 1); this framework draws on an extensive literature.3
Lessons from Lemelson-supported projects over the past three years corrobo-
rate those learned from the Lemelson-KickStart collaboration. The next section
describes four projects funded by the Foundation at different Idea to Impact stages
and draws conclusions regarding the role of philanthropic resources, the signifi-
cance of organizational capacity building, and the importance of private-sector
partnerships and market development in contributing to success. Figure 2 places
the four projects within the Lemelson model: the Benetech project represents the
idea conception phase; the PATH project is an incubation project; the SEWA Bank
and SELCO collaboration occurs at the market development stage; and the IDE
India project is an expansion phase project.
Idea Conception: Benetech Landmine Detector Project
Benetech is a nonprofit organization that combines the impact of technological
solutions with the social entrepreneurship business model to help disadvantaged
communities across the world.4 It has identified an opportunity to create a brand
new technology: an affordable and highly efficient tool to detect landmines.
Benetech will use Lemelson funds to adapt an expensive military landmine detec-
tion technique called quadrupole resonance into a much cheaper and only slight-
ly less efficient technology that can be used by humanitarian demining groups.
Benetech estimates that it will cost $1 million to develop and test 12 prototypes,
and an additional $1 million to reach sustainable production of affordable land-
mine detectors. To proceed with technology design, Benetech must secure licens-
ing agreements from military contractors, including General Electric, to adapt the
demining technique for humanitarian purposes. “Our challenge is to strike a social
license with the companies, ensuring that society benefits without creating a com-
petitive disadvantage for them in other markets,” says Jim Fruchterman, founder
and director of Benetech.
Incubation: PATH Woman’s Condom Project
The Program for Appropriate Technologies in Health (PATH),5 is a nonprofit
organization that creates sustainable, culturally relevant solutions to health chal-
Lemelson funds allowed the bank to provide larger loans to small-scale manufac-
turers who would build the new high-risk local supply chain for solar lighting,
complementing SEWA’s micro-finance services offered to end-users. In contrast,
SELCO’s founder, Harish Hande, chose to establish SELCO as a for-profit compa-
ny, and did not seek philanthropic resources. Unfortunately, the high cost of mar-
ket development has slowed the company’s growth, because Hande has had to use
valuable equity to cover these expenses. He is now considering whether to diversi-
fy his fundraising strategy to include seeking grant funds for market development.
Like KickStart and SELCO, IDEI faces the long, hard road of creating fully
profitable supply chains for its technologies; this requires significant philanthrop-
ic resources and takes between three to twelve years, depending on market size.
Nonetheless, grant funds provided to IDEI and similar organizations are highly
leveraged. For example, a Foundation contribution to IDEI of $22 yields a net
increase of $500 in annual household income for farmers adopting its drip-irriga-
tion kit. Similarly, every dollar granted to KickStart generates a twenty-fold
increase in new profits and wages for the end-users of its technologies. Such organ-
izations are also exploring alternative financing. To complement grant funding,
KickStart is considering using a loan to finance outsourcing mass production, so
that it can increase marketing and sales to other development and relief agencies
(“B2B” sales). Because the cost of sales is low—they can sell by the containerload—
this is potentially a very profitable business.
Organizational Capacity
The development of internal capacity is critical for maximizing social and eco-
nomic impact. Each organization has faced capacity challenges and often devel-
oped innovative ways to address them. Benetech, for example, has created a net-
work of pro bono lawyers, which it draws upon at little cost to the organization to
secure necessary licensing arrangements, such as those from the multinational
manufacturers of the military landmine detection technology. PATH uses strategic
hiring and staff training to strengthen its capacity to partner with the private sec-
tor, because relationships with large-scale manufacturers are critical to scaling up
production of its global health technologies. SELCO draws upon the resources of
its equity investors to enhance its business model and develop strategies for edu-
cating loan officers about the financial profitability of solar lighting. “Awareness of
the benefits and viability of solar has to be built up for every new geographical
area,” says Hande, “and we need the capacity to do it.” IDEI invests in new partner-
ships with exporters and farm extension workers to deepen its capacity to educate
farmers about what mix of crops to grow depending on their local climate and how
to reach lucrative markets.
Private Sector Partnerships
While many of the organizations discussed are non profit organizations, partner-
ships with the private sector, including those with local, developing country com-
panies and transnational corporations, have been critical to their success. For
for this potentially superior technology will require time and investment.
Similarly, PATH anticipates challenges in achieving widespread adoption of
the female condom. Because the female condom cannot be used without the
awareness of a sexual partner, it will require mutual consent. Until the technology
is commonly used, women are likely to feel uncomfortable or unable to ask a male
partner to accept the use of a female condom. PATH is addressing this hurdle by
focusing the design and field trials on ease of use and comfort for both men and
women to maximize the opportunity that both will have a positive first experience
with the condom. In acceptability trials in Mexico, Thailand and South Africa,
good comfort and overall sensation for both female and male participants was
reported in 96-98% of uses. In addition, PATH develops training materials, pro-
motional strategies and other innovative behavior-change approaches to help serv-
ice providers and users employ the products effectively and build skills to broach
the subject with their partners.8
SELCO’s partnership with SEWA Bank has allowed the company to overcome
market development barriers that slowed its business growth over the past several
years. Prior to working with SEWA Bank, SELCO had to invest precious equity in
training 5,000 rural Indian loan officers, providing information that would con-
vince them to lend to poor people interested in acquiring solar lighting and also to
manufacturers and entrepreneurs who would produce and sell the products.
SELCO had to demonstrate the technology’s cost-competitiveness against alterna-
tives and the income streams resulting from access to solar lighting, which would
enable borrowers to pay back loans. Even after trainings, loan officers were not
entirely convinced, and SELCO had to effectively lower interest rates offered by
banks by creating separate long-term, low-interest loan funds. These funds covered
down payments and provided affordable interest rates for borrowers.
SEWA has now taken on financing and technology promotion proving the
profitability of solar lighting. For example, in one distribution scheme, a small
entrepreneur owns and rents a solar battery and lamp unit. She charges the batter-
ies during the day and rents the solar lamps in the evening to night market ven-
dors, collecting the units in the morning for recharging. These vendors previously
rented kerosene lamps for 14 rupees a night; they now pay just 12 rupees for solar
lamps. In addition, solar lamps are easier to maintain, do not present a risk of fire,
produce no noxious fumes and provide a higher-quality light.
Prior to partnering with SEWA, SELCO’s investments in market development
reduced the company’s resources for manufacturing, distribution and sales, slow-
ing SELCO’s growth and profits. As Harish Hande of SELCO explains, “In effect,
SELCO India used its precious and expensive working capital money to develop
the market by creating incentive schemes for the financial institutions and end-
users. Such programs were necessary to create faith and trust in a new technology
like solar. For rural energy services to succeed, such trail-blazing costs need to be
covered through other soft sources, thus not directly affecting the growth of the
company.” Tapping into SEWA’s market and its loan funds provides a new avenue
of growth for SELCO: SELCO markets to SEWA’s membership directly and SEWA
Bank uses its own and Lemelson funds to provide loans for solar lighting.
IGNITING INNOVATION
Leaders of non profit and for-profit enterprises in the developing world are creat-
ing positive change based on the appropriate design and sale of technologies that
generate entrepreneurial opportunity or meet other basic needs of poor people.
The experiences of the organizations described in this article demonstrate the
importance of effective partnerships among the private sector, those financing the
projects, and those implementing them. Organizations require certain types of
capital at particular times; PATH and Benetech taught us that high-risk grants for
new technology design are particularly difficult to obtain. For market development
and expansion, KickStart, SELCO and IDE India illustrated that greater philan-
thropic resources are required for market development and expansion, and that
private-sector financial services must be provided to the end-users and manufac-
turers who are building the supply chains for important new technologies. Donors
and investors must enhance their understanding of the experience of organizations
working through the Idea to Impact process to create a seamless pipeline of
resources for organizations that are generating positive impact on the ground.
To advance this agenda, the Lemelson Foundation recently hosted a meeting of
many of the organizations discussed in this article, as well as foundations, banks,
and venture capital companies.10 Participants identified strategies to address chal-
lenges faced by organizations that advance invention-led development. For exam-
ple, participants suggested hosting investor forums in developing countries to
allow funds to flow more efficiently to implementing organizations, emphasizing
that developing-country entrepreneurs often find it difficult to connect with
donors and investors in industrialized countries. Recognizing the ability of many
organizations to absorb loans and equity investments as well as philanthropic
resources, participants also proposed pooling funds to leverage more investment
and increase efficiencies by allowing donors to share due diligence and monitoring
of funded organizations. In addition, to increase the standardization of informa-
tion shared with investors, participants suggested that funded organizations define
and implement best practices for measuring their social and financial impact.
Mentoring and other non-financial services are also extremely valuable.
Foundations and other organizations must continue to build networks of support
to enhance the impact of organizations pursuing invention-led development.
Many institutions have already made significant contributions to this effort. For
example, the Schwab Foundation for Social Entrepreneurship provides social
entrepreneurs with global recognition and access to its network of investors,
transnational companies, and public figures through Klaus Schwab’s annual Davos
meeting of world leaders. Ashoka, a non profit organization that honors and funds
thousands of social entrepreneurs worldwide, connects its network to pro bono
management, legal and marketing mentoring.
In this vein, the Lemelson Foundation has created incubators called Lemelson
Acknowledgments
I thank Martin Fisher, Michael Free, Jim Fruchterman, Harish Hande and Amitabha
Sadangi for their ongoing collaboration; they openly shared their experiences which
formed the basis of the lessons drawn in the paper. Participants of the October 6, 2005
Lemelson Foundation Thought Leaders Strategy Forum contributed ideas for advancing
collaboration between funders and entrepreneurs that are reflected in the papers. Kelly
Kost, Pamela Hartigan, Will Novy-Hildesley and Doug Steinberg reviewed, enhanced, and
edited the draft. Finally Satheesh Namasivayam and Doug Steinberg helped develop the
Foundation’s international funding strategy and Idea to Impact framework.
1. The Lemelson Foundation defines invention as a new idea, product, or service; it defines innova-
tion as a conversion of an original idea, product, or service to a widely accessible and adopted form.
It uses the term invention-led development to refer to development that is driven by both invention
and innovation.
2. For extensive illustrations of the importance of co-developing technological innovations with
end-users, see: Boru Douthwaite. Enabling Innovation: A Practical Guide to Understanding and
Fostering Technological Change. (Zen, Books 2002), and Everett Rogers, Diffusion of Innovation (The
Free Press, 1995). See also Boru Douthwaite, “Enabling Innovation: Technology- and System-Level
Approaches that Capitalize on Complexity.” Innovations 1:4 (Fall 2006), pp. 93-110.
3. See: Lewis M. Branscomb and Philip E. Auerswald, “Between Invention and Innovation: An
Analysis of Funding for Early-Stage Technology Development.” National Institute of Standards and
Technology, 2002; Penrose, Edith, The Theory of the Growth of the Firm (Oxford University Free
Press. 1959); Richard R. Nelson ed., The Rate and Direction of Inventive Activity: Economic and Social
Factors (Princeton University Press, 1962); and, Katherine Catlin, and Jana Matthews, Leading at the
Expanding Possibilities
at the Base of the Pyramid
Innovations Case Discussion: KickStart
The last decade has witnessed a seismic shift in our understanding of and approach
to poverty alleviation. Driven in large part by the emergence of empowerment-
based forms of development practice—most notably, Participatory Rural
Appraisal1—and the success of the Grameen Bank and the microfinance move-
ment it catalyzed, it is now well accepted that sustainable poverty alleviation must
recognize the poor as central agents in that process. Indeed, in place of the image
of the poor as helpless dependants waiting on Western largesse to extricate them
from their predicament, the poor are increasingly recognized as highly resourceful
entrepreneurs who possess valuable knowledge, resources and capabilities. In turn,
business development and enterprise creation driven by the poor has emerged as a
powerful philosophy and tool for addressing poverty and marginality.
Significantly, this shift has simultaneously altered the role of the development
practitioner—from that of a “development doctor,” who diagnoses the poor’s
problem and prescribes the solution, to that of “enterprise facilitator”, who assists
the poor in acting on their self-defined aspirations.
KickStart and its founders demonstrate the power of this enterprise-driven
approach to poverty alleviation, as their MoneyMaker™ pump has empowered
It is with this in mind that we turn to consider the successes, as well as the
untapped opportunities, that KickStart’s experience provides. For it is from pio-
neering organizations such as KickStart that corporations can gain valuable insight
into alternative business approaches and models for sustainably serving BoP mar-
kets.
it.
First, we can point to a number of successful examples of technology-driven
micro-enterprise creation among the rural poor that utilize technology designs
and/or marketing approaches that diverge from those of KickStart. Let’s look in
more detail at the cases of GrameenPhone and n-Logue, as they stand in stark con-
trast to KickStart’s experiences with its MoneyMaker pump.
GrameenPhone, launched in 1997 in Bangladesh, outfits women entrepre-
neurs or “phone ladies” in rural villages with an off-the-shelf mobile phone and a
solar recharger unit, the cost of which (approximately $175) is financed through
microloans from Grameen Bank. The phone ladies retail the phone service to peo-
ple in the villages where they live. The performance of Grameen Phone has been
nothing but astounding. By
August 2004, there were some
75,000 phone ladies with each One of the greatest sources of
operator generating additional
income of approximately $1000 value delivered by the cell
per year. Recall that the per capi- phone and internet access to
ta income in Bangladesh is $286
per year.4 Through the phone the rural poor is time based.
ladies, half of Bangladesh’s rural
population now enjoys access to
telephony. And Grameen
Phone’s revenues are estimated at half a billion dollars.
The India-based company n-Logue, also a privately-owned rural telecommu-
nications company, piloted a locally engineered wireless-in-loop (WLL) voice- and
data-splitting technology in India in 2001 called corDECT. The company relies on
a micro-franchise model to equip rural entrepreneurs with a computer, monitor,
printer, digital camera, back-up battery and application suite, all in local language.
A corDECT wall set connects the franchisee to a central node that provides access
to India’s internet backbone and national telecommunications network. In addi-
tion, the kiosk franchise owners receive six months of unlimited internet access, a
marketing kit and introductory training. The cost of the package is approximately
$1,200. Franchisees generate income by selling a variety of internet-based servic-
es,5 telephony, computer training, digital photographs and video showings. By
2004, n-Logue was operating in seven states and 1,900 villages, and expecting to
enter an additional 4,000 villages in 2005.
How do GrameenPhone’s and n-Logue’s technologies stack up against the cri-
teria outlined in the KickStart case? First, it’s worth stating explicitly that, in both
cases, all or part of the core technology offering is an existing, off-the-shelf tech-
nology (e.g., cell phone, computer) previously utilized only by the wealthiest of
people. It was not necessary to redesign either the cell phone or the computer to
make them appropriate for the rural poor. Although n-Logue’s extension of inter-
net connectivity to rural areas indeed required the development of a “rurally-spe-
cific” technology, the technology is clearly not mechanically simple—nor one eas-
ily repairable by anyone other than a highly trained engineer. The same would go
for the cell phone and computer. And although technophiles would argue that the
cell phone and computer are easy to use relative to a MoneyMaker treadle pump,
they certainly require training..
Contrary to KickStart’s design assumptions, one of the greatest sources of
value delivered by the cell phone and internet access to the rural poor is time
based. Through cell phones and internet, poor rural farmers are able to get timely,
up-to-date information on everything from crop prices to crop insect pests and
even livestock illness, thereby allowing farmers to command higher prices for their
crops and tend to crop disease or livestock illness before incurring heavy econom-
ic losses. In addition, phone and internet access save rural farmers the time (and
expense) of journeying into town. Two days spent in transit are two days away
from the farm, thereby jeopardizing crop yield and income. Impact assessments of
Grameen Phone’s pilot study indicated that each call placed in the rural village
saved the user $2.70 to $10, which translates into 2.5% to 10% of monthly house-
hold income.6 Indeed, the rural poor experience opportunity costs as much as or
even more intensely than wealthy people.
Energy-wise, both the cell phone and the n-Logue computer system are
dependent upon electricity. Cognizant of the unreliability (and even outright
absence) of rural electrical grids, each of the businesses addresses this gap by sim-
ply providing a mobile energy source as part of the technology package. And in
Grameen Phone’s case, the energy source relies on solar power.
From a pricing standpoint, it’s not clear if the $175 cost of the cell phone kit is
a priori “affordable,” given that the annual per capita income in Bangladesh is
$286. Relative to the MoneyMaker pump, which retails at $88 (by virtue of grant
subsidies) in Kenya—a country whose per capita annual income is comparable to
that of Bangladesh—the cost of the phone kit is seemingly pushing the threshold
of affordability. At $1,200, n-Logue’s computer franchise package for India’s rural
poor appears absurd. However, ex post, the cost of the technology packages is
clearly affordable, as the revenues generated by the micro-businesses are sufficient
to pay for the financing cost of the technology while leaving profit. The important
point is that “affordability” is not inherent to a technology—affordability is a func-
tion of the business model within which the technology is embedded.
Let’s briefly turn our attention to the issue of marketing and dissemination
strategy, particularly in the case of Grameen Phone. As stated in the case, KickStart
argues strongly against “arbitrary” segmentation perpetuated by development pro-
fessionals (e.g., women) and “Marxist-based” models of collective ownership. Such
approaches not only fail to reach the right customers, they also create mis-aligned
incentives, inevitably leading to what economists call moral hazard. Yet Grameen
Phone and Grameen Bank, as many are aware, target women for its customers.
They do so in the belief—supported by empirical studies—that women, more so
than men, invest additional income in their children’s health and education.
In addition, Grameen Bank, which finances the phone purchases, utilizes a sol-
idarity lending model in which a group of women collectively become the guaran-
world. Even the design principles articulated by Jean Nolle, a French agricultural
engineer and pioneer in the development of toolcarriers for the better part of three
decades, included simplicity of design, multi-purpose use, and standardization of
components.11 Ruggedness and simplicity of use and ease of manufacture and
repair were central concerns. As well, the toolcarriers did not require electricity or
fossil fuels, simply animal power.
Much like KickStart, many dissemination strategies, particular during the
1960s and 1970s, relied on private-sector manufacturing and distribution. Private
sector-led initiatives could be found in India, Botswana, Brazil, Mexico, Senegal
and Cameroon. During the 1980s, a shift toward government and aid-sector dis-
tribution of agricultural implements shifted trading patterns, with manufacturers
of toolcarriers moving out of direct sales to focus on governmental and aid agency
contracts.
In the end, however, the wheeled toolcarriers were flatly rejected by farmers,
who argued that single-purpose implements better suited their needs and that the
toolcarrier’s cost was too high. Once again, ex post, one can easily identify a host
of design flaws that might explain its failure. But the point remains that had
KickStart’s criteria been in place three decades ago, the same outcome would have
resulted: The toolcarrier would have been deemed appropriate and launched into
the market with expectations of success.
Yet, if this example isn’t sufficiently convincing—as we recognize that our and
Starkey’s readings of this technology and its history are but one of many—there is
another organization whose technologies adhere letter for letter to KickStart’s
design and marketing principles but that have failed to catalyze significant rural
micro-enterprise development: KickStart itself. For it is important to remember
that no other KickStart technology—which among others include an oilseed press,
a soil block press, a hay baler, and a pit latrine slab—has had an effect remotely
comparable to the MoneyMaker pump on rural micro-enterprise development
and, consequently, on rural poverty reduction. As its 2003-2004 annual report
indicates, over 98% of the organization’s unit sales (9,007 out of a total 9,189 units
sold) are generated by a single product type: the micro-irrigation technologies.
And the MoneyMaker line of pumps was not KickStart’s first product released into
the market—so success doesn’t stem from longer market exposure. There simply is
no easy way to explain the disparity in impact among KickStart’s own technolo-
gies.
What this brief analysis reveals is that KickStart’s success has little to do with
having hit upon some sacred, infallible set of design and marketing criteria that are
inherently “appropriate” for the rural poor—otherwise, the pump’s success would
extend over to KickStart’s entire suite of technologies. Indeed, the very use of the
moniker “appropriate technology” often relies on a tautological logic: If a success-
ful business incorporates a technology, the technology (and its dissemination
strategy) is deemed appropriate; if no profitable business model can leverage the
technology, it is relegated to the status of “inappropriate.” Yes, all of the factors and
criteria identified in the KickStart case inform a business model and how the end-
user (the rural poor in this case) implements a technology, but they do not a pri-
ori determine business success or failure. They merely establish the context within
which the entrepreneur innovates. Appropriateness, therefore, is not determined
by the technology or the marketing approach but by the imagination of its user.
Back to our original question: Why has KickStart been successful, and how can
companies learn from their experience? Clearly, KickStart is accomplishing some-
thing that few other organizations—for profit or otherwise—can claim. Boosting
a country’s GDP by 0.5% while serving its poorest sectors is no small feat! But if
the success of the MoneyMaker pump (and all other technologies) in catalyzing
micro-enterprise has little to do with ingenious product design or marketing (or
prescient knowledge of profitable business opportunities for that matter), where
then do we turn?
Before we address this question,
let’s remind ourselves how difficult
it is to build a new business, KickStart’s strategy for
whether you are a multinational alleviating poverty through
corporation entering a new-prod-
uct market or a micro-entrepreneur technology-based micro-
in Kenya. The failure rate of startup enterprise formation
businesses in the U.S. has been esti-
mated to reach 85% in certain sec- provides an excellent
tors, despite the resources people
have available to them relative to
example of this real-options
the rural poor. “Good ideas” are a strategic framework.
dime a dozen—turning an idea into
a profitable business is where the
rubber meets the road. Within such
a context, the linear and highly regimented planning (and design) models that
constitute the heart of much managerial and administrative training—both of
business and development professionals—are likely to fail. It takes a different kind
of organizational strategy, one that accepts and integrates ambiguity and uncer-
tainty, not masks it behind a façade of numeric certainty. KickStart’s success, we
believe, is the result of such an organizational strategy, one which we shall call a
“real options” strategy.12
A strategy is distinct from a “business model.” KickStart’s business model con-
sists of the organization’s particular configuration of resources and assets by which
it manufactures, markets, finances, and distributes its pumps and other technolo-
gies. A strategy, by contrast, outlines how a firm intends to achieve its stated mis-
sion over time. Key strategic processes include defining the scope of the organiza-
tion’s activities, the allocation and targeting of funds, and the choices one makes
regarding organizational size and structure.
The notion of a real-options strategy takes its name and underlying logic from
the “financial option.” A financial option explicitly recognizes the value of uncer-
tainty (volatility) and time and the relationship between the two. Its appeal as a
logic for guiding organizational strategy stems directly from its ability to value
uncertainty. As we’ve argued above, new enterprise creation is a prime candidate
for such an approach, particularly at the BoP. Fundamentally, a real-options strat-
egy responds to uncertainty through a staged process of rapid, low-cost continu-
ous learning supported by a flexible resource allocation and organizational struc-
ture. Small-scale experimentation and low-cost “probes” are the tools that enable
such learning. Within a real-options logic, organizational flexibility is of central
concern. As such, investments are targeted into establishing a core-capabilities
platform from which the organization can respond in multiple directions based on
new information. By extension, in place of a single-product approach, which can
lead to over-commitment, a portfolio of products and technologies would be
developed and tested, thereby spreading risk while increasing the number of
“probes” in the market. Within a real-options framework, product or business fail-
ures are not considered wasted efforts, but valuable sources of information.
Organizational growth and expansion—in people and infrastructure—would
be limited until the experiments and small-scale pilots yield sufficient insight into
the business model to justify scaling up or discontinuing. As the wheeled toolcar-
rier example demonstrates, having the organizational flexibility to terminate a
low-value project is as valuable as the opportunity to scale-up one that shows
promise. And the scale-up process itself follows an incremental approach, avoiding
the all-or-nothing investment decisions which lock the organization into a single
business model from the start.
KickStart’s strategy for alleviating poverty through technology-based micro-
enterprise formation provides an excellent example of this real-options strategic
framework. The trial-and-error approach that the case alludes to conceals a deep-
er strategy that leverages the KickStart’s core competency in producing durable,
culturally-sensitive, mechanically operated technologies within a highly flexible
organizational design that facilitates rapid, low-cost learning. A visit to KickStart’s
corporate headquarters in Nairobi quickly supports the notion that the organiza-
tion’s resources are focused on harnessing and expanding its technology-develop-
ment capability. Most of the organization’s formally trained personnel work in its
Tech-Dev department (as do its ex-patriots), and a significant portion of its office
space goes toward this function. And “cultural capital” clearly resides within Tech-
Dev, as decision-making power flows from Tech-Dev to the field.
KickStart also maintains organizational flexibility and low experimentation
costs by driving most of its operations through a variable-cost model.
Manufacturing is outsourced. Products are sold through independent dealers. The
Marketing/Sales group relies heavily on commission-based employees. The Impact
Monitoring department is a recent phenomenon that has developed as demand for
the pumps has increased, along with donor requests to learn the impact of their
funds.
Unlike many NGOs, KickStart does not invest significant funds, research or
activism into development issues. As the case suggests, KickStart does not believe
in extensive training or skills development (other than operation of its equip-
ment), does not focus on establishing “women’s self help groups,” nor address itself
to a host of other potential domains (e.g., nutrition, health). KickStart believes in
these important issues, but does not feel it possesses the capacity to address them
effectively. In addition, the group’s philosophy focuses on the individual as the
locus of change. Again, the critical implication is that KickStart maintains very low
overhead, giving it the organizational flexibility to experiment and learn.
KickStart maintains a portfolio of products that include an oilseed press, the
soil block press, the treadle pump, and the hay baler, among others. The organiza-
tion continues to develop additional technologies, many of which leverage a com-
mon compression technology. The products share a suite of common characteris-
tics: all are manually operated and require, at most, two people to function; they
are ergonomically designed and easy to operate; and durability and ease of repair
are made possible by designs that require few moving parts. By maintaining a port-
folio of technologies, KickStart gains greater market knowledge through its multi-
ple touch points with the market and increases the likelihood that a successful
match will occur. It’s instructive to recall that KickStart’s first technology was not
the micro-irrigation pump, but the oilseed press (which only sold 49 units in
Kenya in 2004 compared with 9,007 micro-irrigation pumps). Had KickStart bet
the farm on its oilseed press—much as the developers of the wheeled toolcarrier—
KickStart would not be in the position it is today.
The value of a real options strategy for serving BoP markets is that it increas-
es the probability that an organization will develop a product or service that a poor
person or community will successfully embed into a profitable, wealth-generating
local business. And as KickStart and other pioneering social entrepreneurs have
demonstrated, demand for their products and services is ultimately dependent on
the ability of the end-user—the owner of the MoneyMaker pump or the cell
phone—to fashion a wealth-creating micro-enterprise. But, as we’ve suggested,
catalyzing these micro-enterprises is not something amenable to deliberate, deduc-
tive planning, nor a natural outcome from a technology’s design characteristics,
nor based on how we may market them. Yes, these factors comprise the boundary
conditions within which business models are developed, but they do not deter-
mine them. As such, there is no silver bullet technology for dealing with the uncer-
tainty of new enterprise creation. But there are strategies that can help organiza-
tions manage such conditions. KickStart’s real-options strategy is one such model.
1. Robert Chambers, Whose Reality Counts: Putting the First Last, (London: ITDG Publishing: 1997).
2. As demonstrated by the intensification of anti-WTO, WEF, and IMF protests, from Seattle, Davos,
Prague, and Cancun to, most recently, Hong Kong. Furthermore, today’s demonstrators are as like-
ly to include smallholder farmers and Third World women’s coalitions as they are American college
students and European “Greens.”
3. C. K. Prahalad and Stuart Hart (2002), "The fortune at the bottom of the pyramid,"
Strategy+Business 26: 54-67; C. K. Prahalad, The Fortune at the Bottom of the Pyramid (Philadelphia:
Wharton School Publishing, 2004); Stuart Hart, Capitalism at the Crossroads (Philadelphia:
Wharton School Publishing, 2005).
4. Hart, Capitalism at the Crossroads.
5. n-Logue facilitates the provision of various internet-based services, including education and
training, telemedicine and health care, and agricultural and veterinary services.
6. Hart, Capitalism at the Crossroads.
7. Starkey, Animal-Drawn Wheeled Toolcarriers: Perfected yet Rejected (Braunschweig, Germany:
Friedr. Vieweg & Sohn, 1988).
8. Chambers, Whose Reality Counts, p. 12.
9. Ibid.
10.Starkey, Animal-Drawn Wheeled Toolcarriers, p. 122.
11. Ibid, p. 16.
12. See Hart, Capitalism at the Crossroads, pp. 196-198.
About 40 million people in the world are blind. The prevalence of blindness in
most industrialized countries of Europe and North America varies between 0.15%
and 0.25%, compared with blindness rates of nearly 1.5% for the developing coun-
tries in Africa, Asia and Latin America. While agerelated macular degeneration,
diabetic retinopathy, and glaucoma are the dominant causes in developed coun-
tries, cataracts are the major cause of blindness in the developing countries,
accounting for nearly 75% of all cases in Asia.
A cataract forms as the natural lens of the eye clouds over time, and has to be
surgically removed and replaced by an artificial one. The causes of cataracts are
many, but lack of proper nutrition and the effects of tropical weather are certainly
two of the more significant. In 2006, an estimated 20 million people were blind
from cataracts worldwide, more than 80% of them in developing countries.
In 2006, India had nearly 7 million cataract-blind individuals, with roughly 3.8
million new cases occurring annually.1 With a population of over a billion, and a
per-capita income of about $600/year (PPP $3,600), nearly 25% of Indians were
considered to be below the poverty line, but much larger numbers (approximately
50%) were at income levels that would place treatment at private eye clinics
beyond their reach. In theory, anyone who is unable to afford payment is eligible
for free surgery at government-run district hospitals but in practice, a vast num-
ber of poor people prefer to pay a small fee to get better quality care at an NGO.
Some government eye hospitals have reputations for offering good service, but
overall the poor consumers prefer private or voluntary eye hospitals because the
services are more reliable and overall outcomes better.2 The country’s capacity to
perform cataract surgeries has surged from about 1.2 million a year in 1991-92 to
nearly 5 million a year by 2006, much of it coming from the catalytic effort of
entrepreneurial organizations such as the Aravind Eye Hospital. Roughly 25% of
the work is done in the government sector, 40% by the NGOs, and 35% by private
clinics.
There are many examples of excellent public health delivery models around
the world, but rarely do we see one that has been able to grow steadily over three
decades, and yet simultaneously maintain, even increase, the excellent quality of its
service. Aravind is an exemplar in this regard. Even more interestingly, it is fueled
by a self-funding model: roughly 40% of its patients, those “paying” for its servic-
es, provide the profit margins to deliver a high-quality service for the rest of the
60%, “non-paying” poor patients.
This paper attempts to dissect what we have learned from Aravind’s success for
the benefit of healthcare professionals managing other similar public health sys-
tems.
The first author, Kash Rangan, started his work with Aravind almost 15 years
ago with the development of the first business case study of its workings. The sec-
ond author, Thulasiraj, the nephew of Aravind’s founder, has been a part of the
hospital group’s senior leadership team from the time of its founding.
Learning-by-Doing
Throughout its first three decades, Aravind’s strategy was very much shaped by
an experimentation model: key ideas floated by one member of the group
would be tried out, though not always with a fully fleshed out implementation
plan. Early results would then be analyzed and a revised strategy readied, and
the process repeated till tangible results emerged.
The hybrid funding model itself was the result of such a strategy molding
process. During the early years, 1976-78, Dr. V. was not very successful in rais-
ing money to support his vision of providing free care for those who would not
be able to afford the fee, so he took a detour and arranged to build the ground
floor of the “fee-for-service” hospital. But even then the senior management
team had the vision to lay the foundation so that the facility could be expanded
upwards. From the surplus of the ground floor operation, the first floor was
built, and so on, till the five-story main hospital was readied. The free hospital
was built following the completion of the main hospital using the cash flow gen-
erated from earned revenues.
After it had served paying customers in its first few years, as a strategic
necessity, Aravind learned the many advantages of the paying customer beyond
merely providing funding sustenance; now the hybrid strategy of combining
specialty clinics with cataract treatment began to gel. This then led Aravind to
structure a unique, cutting-edge clinical practice environment as a way to
attract and retain doctors.
The same spirit of learning by doing has also pervaded many of Aravind’s
other strategic forays. When Aravind formulated its early strategy on eye camps,
the “yield” was below 20%. That is, less than one in five potential patients actu-
ally availed of the offer of free surgery. Through a process of client research its
field personnel discovered the many barriers that poor rural people faced in
making the choice to have the surgery. It added services—food, lodging, and
transportation—to address exactly those constraints. Today the acceptance rates
are over 90%. Through a similar process of trial and error the yield at refractive
camps (those where eye glasses are prescribed and fitted) have surged from less
than 10% in 2000 to over 80% in 2006. Aravind now takes with it a selection of
frames and lenses, including the equipment to make adjustments and fittings to
deliver the prescriptions on the spot. A small amount of custom glasses alone
are mailed to the patient from a central facility.
But trial and error also means that unsuccessful experiments must be termi-
nated. In the 1980s, to make it convenient for rural people to accept the surgery,
Aravind engaged in several surgical camps on-site. That is, the outreach organ-
ization would temporarily convert a facility, such as a school building, into a
surgical facility, and Aravind doctors and support staff would do the surgery.
Soon Aravind realized that the medical outcomes were hard to manage because
of the variable quality of the surgical environment. So Aravind abandoned the
surgical camp model and converted to a screening camp only model.
Making Sight Affordable
ing and amplifying their individual contributions. Five key strategic choices are
particularly notable.
The first strategic choice key to Aravind’s success has been the organization’s
unstinting focus on the elimination of cataract blindness. In founding Aravind, Dr.
V. could have gone in many directions to eliminate blindness. He chose cataract
blindness. That first singular choice was the most important in Aravind’s develop-
ment, and the rest of its later
strategy was predicated on it.
[D]uring those early days, one The organization’s second
key strategic choice—to pur-
of Dr. V’s main obsessions was sue a “hybrid” business
model—was initially driven by
to study the principles that necessity. While Aravind’s mis-
enabled retail systems, such as sion from the outset was to
serve the under-served, partic-
McDonald’s and Sears, to ularly the rural poor, Dr. V.and
attain scale... [I]f Aravind was his early core management
team (his brother, Mr. G.
truly to have an impact, it had Srinivasan; his sister, Dr.
to design a system to take care Natchiar and her husband, Dr.
Namperumalsamy; and Dr.
of the millions of rural poor Nam’s sister, Dr. Vijayalaksmi
and her husband Dr. M.
who were cataract blind. Srinivasan) recognized that in
order to achieve this mission
they needed funding. Lacking
other options, they decided to
raise revenue by building a clientele of paying customers seeking specialized serv-
ices. They soon recognized that their improvised, hybrid business model had many
advantages over the alternative of offering only one level of service to patients
unable to pay; earning revenue to cross-subsidize their core mission was only one
of the many benefits. (See the text box above titled “Learning by Doing.”)
The core motivation behind the hybrid operating model was the ambition to
reach a scale of operations that matched the scale of the challenge. Surprising as it
may seem, during those early days, one of Dr. V’s main obsessions was to study the
principles that enabled retail systems, such as McDonald’s and Sears, to attain
scale. Given India’s population demographics and disease incidence, if Aravind
was truly to have an impact, it had to design a system to take care of the millions
of rural poor who were cataract blind. That led Aravind to adopt and refine the
channel of “screening camps” as a way of reaching out to the rural poor, as
described further below.
Having put in place a strategy for gaining volume, the next big challenge lay in
building the capacity to take care of the massive volume of cataract surgery that
was being targeted. This led to Aravind’s third key strategic choice: to design an
spectrum. Aravind’s focus was “cataract surgery.” In essence, even when Aravind
extended itself through refraction or diabetic retinopathy outreach camps, it
stayed very faithful to its strategy model. Patients identified as needing further
treatment at either of these camps were provided a definitive solution within hours
when fitting glasses or within days in the case of diabetic retinopathy.
More recently Aravind has moved into the treatment of another eye ailment,
diabetic retinopathy, which, like cataract, is widespread in India. As the name indi-
cates, some diabetic patients will develop a condition in the retina that leads to the
bleeding of blood vessels. Unless treated with laser procedures in a timely fashion,
the ailment can result in permanent loss of eyesight. In India, the World Health
Organization (WHO) estimates that currently 3.2% of the general population, or
about 32 million people, have diabetes. Roughly 20% of them would have devel-
oped diabetic retinopathy and among these, 20% would require active treatment
such as a laser procedure. The WHO also estimates that in the next 25 years the
prevalence of diabetes in India will increase to 5.6% of the projected population of
1.4 billion, or about 80 million persons.5 In the 2006-2007 fiscal year, over 70,000
outpatients were screened for this ailment (through mobile screening camps and
patient visits to one of Aravind hospitals), and nearly 3,500 were identified as
needing treatment.
2. Client Segmentation and Quality Assurance
The core mission of the hospital and the primary purpose of its founding was to
address the needs of the vast numbers of poor, who live mainly in rural areas.
Recognizing that surgical centers in urban centers would not be able to attract the
vast masses of the rural poor (about two-thirds of India’s poor), Dr. V. pioneered
the massive use of eye screening camps to reach out to the rural poor and bring
into the base hospital those selected for surgery. Instead of waiting for those in
need to come to its door, Aravind conducts eye camps in rural areas to find
patients. Medical teams work closely with community leaders and service groups
to set up camps that screen hundreds of people in a single day. Free screening
camps are held every day, and while Aravind provides the staff and the medical
equipment, community partners like the Lion’s Club, charitable organizations, or
local philanthropists publicize and organize the camp and provide food and bus-
ing for those selected for surgery. The same afternoon or evening of the camp,
those selected for surgery are then transported by buses to a base hospital for sur-
gery the following day. (Aravind recognized the value of partnerships with local
communities and philanthropic organizations to gain scale, especially in reaching
out to poor patients in far-flung villages.)
In the most recent year, 2006-07, Aravind offered 2,049 outreach screening eye
camps. Of the 270,000 surgeries performed, over 110,000 were admitted through
these outreach activities and received free surgeries. These admissions and anoth-
er 35,000 walk-in patients to the “free section” in the base hospitals accounted for
about 60% of all surgeries performed.6
Paying patients made up approximately 40% of the total pool. These are
patients who walk into one of the five hospitals seeking the high-quality services
they would seek in a private clinic. Such customers are provided a differentiated
service in both the outpatient and inpatient clinics. A dedicated part of the hospi-
tal is devoted to their care and recovery. The paying segment is crucial to Aravind’s
strategy for two reasons. First, patients pay market prices for their eye care because
Aravind is the quality leader in its field, and the income generated subsidizes the
organization’s core mission. Second, paying customers set high demands on qual-
ity care (at least higher than non-paying customers), and those standards are used
as a benchmark for nonpaying customers.
Because the paying patients are so central to its funding model, Aravind pro-
vides them a differentiated service: beds (as opposed to floor mats), optional air
conditioning and semi-private bathrooms. But in spite of such differences in the
pre- and post-operative services, the same team of surgeons provides the surgery.
Doctors rotate between the “free” and “paying” hospitals on a set schedule, so that
whether senior or junior, every doctor treats patients at eye camps and in surgical
procedures.
Because Aravind’s paying patients subsidize its nonpaying patients, it avoids
some of the critical problems of funding sustainability that other nonprofits and
NGOs face on this front. But Aravind’s paying patients play an important quality
assurance role, and an even more crucial professional development role.
Without the earned-income pool of paying patients, market feedback would
be muted. If that occurred, the discipline needed to maintain high-quality stan-
dards would diminish, and so would the treatment of poor patients. Partly to
address the market needs of this funding segment, Aravind offers a comprehensive
variety of non-cataract specialty clinics. Retinal detachment corrections, vitreous
surgery, laser procedures, and other special treatments make up nearly 25% of
Aravind’s services. Aravind’s doctors are challenged to master new skills for these
specialist disciplines, which helps them remain committed to Aravind. Without
such intangible benefits, doctors could well be tempted by the higher salaries at
private clinics. Many surgeons might not consider cataract surgery, alone, to be
professionally challenging and rewarding, even if it provided the spiritual satisfac-
tion of serving the poor and needy.
3. A Laser-Like Focus on Operational Efficiency and Cost Control
During the 1970s and 1980s, India had only about 12,000 ophthalmologists, which
severely handicapped its capacity to treat its blind. It was this “production” bottle-
neck that Dr. V. addressed by his innovative “assembly” line system for surgery.
Patients were readied for surgery in groups, with qualified ophthalmic assistants
doing almost all the preparatory work including the anaesthetizing, so that sur-
geons could focus on the surgery itself. When the procedure is completed, appro-
priate supplies are quickly provided as the next patient is brought in and the treat-
ed patient is escorted to the recovery room. Each operating room, except those
used for complicated surgeries such as retinal detachment, usually had two or three
operating tables as a way of efficiently utilizing the OT supporting staff. At each
operating table, there are multiple sets of instruments and support staff to ensure
that the waiting time between surgeries is almost zero. The same principle is also
applied in the outpatient examinations: trained support staff carry out all the rou-
tine diagnostic procedures, some of which tend to be quite time consuming. The
years of training at Aravind before they are hired there full-time. Since the hospi-
tal is spread across 5 locations, the recruitment pool comes from the service area
of these hospitals. Most of these young women have barely passed high school, and
under normal circumstances would not have found any meaningful employment
in the village. Going to the nearby city to look for a job is a viable option but not
entirely accepted due to cultural and social norms of most village dwellers, partly
because of the real or anticipated fears of working in a large city, especially for
unaccompanied young women. The training is given free and the women also
receive free housing and a stipend.
During the training, the emphasis is placed equally on developing skills in
ophthalmic techniques and learning how to deliver those skills in a compassionate,
patient-centric way. After the first six months of common training, each person is
channeled to develop her skills in a specific area such as outpatient services, wards,
operating room, refraction, patient counseling, housekeeping or medical records.
Once they successfully complete training (over 98% do so), they are all absorbed
into the Aravind system. Many families see Aravind’s structured training program
and supervised living accommodation at the nurses’ hostel as the ultimate solution
to gaining employment, vocational training, and income in a safe environment.
After training, most such qualified women spend several years serving at Aravind,
picking up confidence, skills and money. Their loyalty to the institution is demon-
strated by the relatively low turnover: only 10% annually. Most go back to their
families after three to five years of service at Aravind to marry and settle down.
IOL manufacture: In the early 1990s, the preferred surgical technique for pay-
ing patients and in private clinics in India was ECCE (extra-capsular surgery with
intra-ocular lens). This surgery was inevitably performed with an operating
microscope: the surgeon left the posterior capsule intact and then inserted the IOL.
The outcome for patients was far superior, but Aravind was handicapped by a lack
of resources (operating microscopes, training for surgeons and the availability of
cheap IOLs). But Dr. V., in his drive to provide quality care for the poor, drove an
ambitious vertical integration program.
The primary hurdle to IOL adoption in India at that time was price. IOLs sold
for nearly $150 apiece in the U.S. and Western Europe, making IOL manufactur-
ing among the most profitable segments of medical device manufacturing. In the
early 1980s, strong profits in North America and Europe enabled American IOL
manufacturers to donate some lenses to Aravind and other charitable eye hospi-
tals. As Aravind’s surgical volumes grew, however, the donor organizations could
hardly keep up. Only paying patients were offered the IOL option at a fee.
Although IOL prices were coming down, Aravind and its patients, especially the
poor, could not afford to buy the implants on the open market. Moreover, as the
IOL implant became available, patients in their 40s and 50s came in for surgery,
having heard that they could regain their vision fully and could go back to their
livelihoods.
Dr. V. and his colleagues looked for a way out. IOL manufacturing was con-
sidered extremely high-tech at that time. It required the latest in precision machin-
ing, sterile techniques, and quality control. While a few Indian companies were
specializing in ophthalmic products, even fewer had yet ventured into IOLs.7 In
1992, based on the need for affordable IOLs, Aravind, with help from external sup-
porters (David Green from Seva Foundation in the U.S.), began a process of tech-
nology acquisition that resulted in setting up Aurloab, an internal manufacturing
capacity under the auspices of an independent charitable trust. Today, that facility
produces more than enough quality lenses at an affordable cost to meet all its
needs It sells the excess to other hospitals and NGOs in India, and the margins go
to further support its core mission.8
5. Hardwiring the Spirit for Service
Over the years, as we pointed out earlier, Aravind has constantly reinvested its
operating surplus to acquire the latest technology and equipment, even while
being very innovative in keeping costs to the efficient minimum. But in a highly
service-oriented business such as eye care, especially when the majority of cus-
tomers are from the poorer segments of society, what keeps the system humming
is the people: the vast cadres of doctors and nursing staff that make the strategy
happen. By 2006, the Aravind system had nearly 125 ophthalmologists, 615 clini-
cal nursing staff, 480 people supporting other functions, 70 individuals directly
involved in outreach activities, and 130 people in administration, totaling over
1,400 people engaged in the mission. It is a family business, but only about 35 of
Dr. V.’s family members are part of the operation. How can such a huge system run
on the philosophy of its founder and core management team, when it calls for
extraordinary attention to efficiency and dedication to service quality?
The answer is that throughout the system Aravind has inbuilt institutional
mechanisms to motivate its human resources. For instance, its doctors are encour-
aged and supported in research activities, which can involve training in cutting-
edge techniques. Given its size and reputation, Aravind has been able to attract
doctors from leading academic institutions around the world to visit and spend
some time training its doctors and doing research. The same is true for technolo-
gies from leading equipment suppliers. Aravind is often the lead user for advanced
technologies or treatments. All of this, along with the satisfaction of providing
people the gift of being able to see again, is the source of the doctors’ motivation.
The nursing staff, too, as we pointed out earlier, is treated with care and attention
to their own development. In a service business the welfare of the service provider
is the key antecedent to the welfare of the client, and at Aravind this principle is
thoroughly institutionalized.
GOING TO SCALE
It is important to recognize that Aravind’s strategy model was shaped by trial and
error; it was a classic case of learning by doing. As a consequence, the core man-
agement team was in complete harmony with its direction, with Dr. V. being the
chief architect and keeper of its mission. But even as the strategy was being joint-
ly sculpted, each key member took on primary responsibility for an aspect of the
strategy and its implementation. For example, Dr. Natchiar oversaw the clinical
and service side of the operations, including the crucial task of recruiting and
training the nursing staff. Dr. Namperumalsamy oversaw the clinical specialties
and advanced training for doctors, along with the connections to leading research
and innovations in the field. As the group’s current chairman, he has been invest-
ing in its research capabilities. Mr. G. Srinivasan provided the oversight for the
expansion and maintenance of physical plant. Dr. Vijayalakshmi and her husband
M. Srinivasan provided the leadership with respect to cataract surgery and its
advances. Thulasiraj provided the leadership in organizing outreach activities, and
later for training outside providers who wished to learn from Aravind. Others, too,
were handpicked by Dr. V. for special tasks. For example, Balakrishnan, with a
Ph.D in engineering, was attracted from his U.S. job to take over the leadership of
Aurolab, the manufacturing arm. As new hospitals were added, a second-genera-
tion team from Madurai would be transferred to the new location to get it
launched. Because of their significant experience with the operating procedures
and principles at Madurai, the translation was usually smooth. Interestingly, most
discussions of strategy were informal within the core leadership group, and often
took place outside the work environment. There was a tacit understanding of, and
empathy for, each other’s perspective, so much so that strategy formulation was a
group affair. There was harmony and coherence at the top.
A key requirement for scaling is standardizing core activities. The nature of the
screening activity at eye camps, or for that matter the surgical procedures for
cataracts, are highly amenable to such value-engineering techniques. But that
alone would not ensure a smooth scaling of the system. The surrounding activities
that comprise the end-to-end system have to be standardized as well. Here is where
Aravind has been innovative in its design of its healthcare delivery model. It is all
boiled down into a routine: First, through word of mouth, and then through the
discipline of formal analysis and written documentation, every activity is orches-
trated, starting with how the eye camp is promoted, how the patients are brought
in, and how the logistics is organized, all the way to how the medical screening
occurs, and how patients are selected and readied for the trip to the main hospital.
The same applies to the actual surgical procedure, and the pre- and post- surgical
processes at the main hospital.
LAICO (Lion’s Aravind Institute for Community Ophthalmology) came into
existence in 1992, essentially to promote best practices in the running of an eye
hospital. Internally, with ambitious plans to expand to other major sites like
Coimbatore, the senior management felt the need to formalize the lessons it had
learned. Even then, those in the center realized that much of the hospital’s cost
leverage came from its systems perspective, not just the routinization and stan-
dardization of its treatment protocol. And the knowledge gained could not only
readily be applied to Aravind, but perhaps could be transferred to other like-mind-
ed institutions as well. Over the last 15 years this direction has translated into a
number of structured training programs, consulting and capacity building activi-
ties, research and publications. LAICO has been in the forefront in promoting best
practices, especially in the area of management. Its most significant work and con-
tribution has been in the area of capacity building in other eye hospitals. This came
out of the realization that most eye hospitals in the voluntary and the government
sector were under-performing when benchmarked against their own capacity and
the unmet eye-care needs in their own service area. LAICO has worked with over
225 eye hospitals to enhance their capacity, essentially in cataract services. While
most of these hospitals are in India, about 40 are in other countries, including
Tanzania, Sri Lanka, Nepal, China, Indonesia, Bolivia, and Sub-Saharan African
nations. Studies have shown that on an average, the participant hospital’s produc-
tivity has jumped by 50% on most factors a year after the appropriate lessons have
been implemented in each of these hospitals.
In 2006, not satisfied with its reach and expansion, Aravind set a goal of per-
forming one million surgeries a year by the year 2015. The senior leadership group
has put together a strategy to achieve this through the concept of “Managed
Hospitals,” which involves staffing and managing the day-to-day operations of an
eye hospital that is not owned by Aravind. In this partnership model, the partner
manages the investments and creates an enabling interface for the hospital’s effec-
tive functioning. A core team from Aravind Eye Hospital would manage the
staffing through local recruitment, selection and training at Aravind Eye Hospital.
The hospital would be run as if it were an integral part of Aravind’s own network
of hospitals. In the pilot phase, three hospitals in India (at Kolkata in West Bengal,
Amethi in Uttar Pradesh, and Amreli in Gujarat) are functioning in this mode. The
next great “learning-by-doing” experiment has thus been launched. If successful,
an exemplar system will achieve another level of scale, with millions more cured of
blindness.
1 Krisnan, Pavithra. Infinite Vision. Aravind Eye Care System; Br J Ophthalmol. 1990; 74 (6):341-3.
2. The Lancet • Vol 355 • January 15, 2000: 180-4
3. Dr. V’s sister, Dr. Natchiar; her husband, Dr. Namperumalsamy (Nam), now the hospital group’s
chairman; Dr. V’s brother, Mr. G. Srinivasan; Dr. Nam’s sister Dr. Vijayalkshmi; and her husband Dr.
M. Srinivasan, along with Dr. V’s nephew, R.D. Thulasiraj, have all played important roles in build-
ing the institution. The second- generation team is now very active in the development and imple-
mentation of its strategies; among them are Dr. Aravind, Dr. Prajna, Dr. Kim and his wife Dr. Usha,
Dr. Kalpana, Dr. Ravindran, Dr. Balakrishnan, and R.D. Sriram.
4. For a more conceptual explication of the Aravind strategy model, also see V.K. Rangan, “Lofty
Missions, Down-to-Earth Plans.” Harvard Business Review 82, no. 3 (March 2004).
5. Source: Global Prevalence of Diabetes—Estimates for the Year 2000 and Projections for 2030;
Sarah Wild, MB, BCHIR, Ph.D, Gojka Roglic, MD, et. al; Diabetes Care, Vol. 27, No. 5, May 5, 2004:
http://www.who.int/diabetes/facts/en/diabcare0504.pdf
6. Roughly a third of the 60% “free” patients paid a small amount, equivalent to $10, and the rest
paid nothing.
7. Ibid.
8. For more on Aurolab, Mahad Ibrahim, Aman Bhandari, Jaspal S. Sandhu, and P. Balakrishnan,
“Making Sight Affordable (Part I): Aurolab Pioneers Production of Low-Cost Technology for
Cataract Surgery,”Innovations 1:3 (Summer, 2006), pp. 25-41.
The first Champilimaud Award for the “contribution to vision in the developing
world,” accompanied by a prize of Euro 1 million, was given in 2007 to the Aravind
Eye Hospitals in Tamil Nadu, India. They could not have made a better choice.
Aravind Eye Hospitals are the highest volume cataract surgery facility in the world.
Their five hospitals examined over 2.3 million people and performed over 270,000
surgeries in 2006. Aravind is not only the highest volume cataract surgery system
in the world but also a trendsetter that has lifted the quality of cataract surgery in
India and set a new paradigm for delivering high volume, high-quality surgery to
the poor in a self sustaining manner. The founding genius was a spiritual guru for
all who now work in international eye care.
Dr. Govindappa Venkataswamy, affectionately known by family and friends as
“Dr. V,” passed away at age 87 in July 2006. He was born in 1918 in a poor farming
village. There was no school in his village. After tending the water buffalo in the
mornings, he would walk more than three miles to school every day. When a
school finally came to his community, there were no writing materials and the stu-
dents learned to write with sticks in the sand on the floor of their thatched roofed
schoolroom. Despite these obstacles, the brilliant young Venkataswamy earned a
scholarship to Stanley Medical College in Madras. Because of three cousins who
died during childbirth, he chose to specialize in obstetrics.
In his final year of training Dr. V was stricken with a severe form of rheuma-
toid arthritis. The young Venkataswamy was hospitalized for nearly two years.
Agonized by constant, severe, physical pain he watched helplessly as his fingers
twisted and deformed to the point where he knew his body could not function
cisional cataract surgery, the quality of modern eye care has increased dramatical-
ly each year. However, these new technologies have also led to a steady rise in health
care costs. In the developed world cataract surgery in particular has become ever
more sophisticated and refined and ever more expensive. With increased public
awareness that most people see well, and resume full activity soon after modern,
state-of-the-art cataract surgery, patients in the Western world now come for
cataract surgery as soon as they experience mild blurring. Ultrasonic phacoemul-
sification cataract removal with the placement of a posterior chamber intraocular
lens implant has become the most frequent operative procedure performed in
America with an annual cost to Medicare of 3.5 billion dollars.
The main thrust of research in cataract surgery has been on creating incremen-
tally better outcomes through ever more sophisticated and expensive techniques.
As the technology continues to improve, the costs continue to rise. Many of the
best doctors in the developing world want to emulate the methods performed by
their colleagues in the West. The middle and upper classes of even the least devel-
oped nations demand, and are willing to pay for, what they perceive to be the lat-
est and greatest surgical methods. Meanwhile the barriers to cataract care for the
majority of the world’s poor are becoming ever more daunting
Despite the incredible success and improvements in cataract management in
the developed world, most people who are blind from treatable cataracts are being
left behind and will die before they ever see a doctor. Moreover, if we apply the
same standards for when a patient is considered ready for surgery that we use in
the United States to the destitute of the world, then the number waiting for
cataract surgery is staggering. If we decide to operate when a person has difficulty
working at a job demanding reasonable vision, the number of poor people requir-
ing surgery is well over 100 million! The gap between those who are totally blind
and need surgery to survive, but are unable to attain it, and the wealthy of the
world who receive expensive surgery for mild visual problems, continues to widen.
There are several reasons why the poor are unable to obtain care. There are
economic, social, and environmental barriers that must be overcome and
addressed when designing a public health cataract intervention program. First and
foremost is providing top quality surgery. The greatest requirement in having poor
patients come for surgery is to provide them with superb visual restoration. Even
the poorest of the poor recognize quality. When a neighbor or a friend has high-
quality surgery it leads to other people seeking care. If the surgical outcome is bad,
then patients will not come. Next there needs to be excellent management of
human resources to maintain the high quality while delivering care with maxi-
mum efficiency in a cost-effective manner. Use of human resources and the train-
ing of ophthalmic assistants, technicians, nurses, and lay helpers can increase pub-
lic awareness and accessibility for all people. Finally, strategies must be implement-
ed for cost recovery to allow the highest quality of care to be delivered to the poor
in a sustaining fashion. With a small charge to those patients who can pay, and an
enormous volume of surgery, free care can be provided for the destitute. High-
quality care, training, education for the patients, and cost recovery from patients
who can afford care all combine to make the Aravind Hospitals the leader in
cataract care to the poor in India.
The Aravind approach has been called compassionate capitalism. Not only do
they provide excellent free care but they have solved the issue of sustainability. At
the core of their success was developing “Aurolab,” which manufactures and dis-
tributes needed pharmaceuticals, dis-
posables, and most importantly lens
implants for cataract surgery. With
Aurolab-produced products and an Fifty million people in our
efficient system, Aravind has brought world suffer in needless
the cost of a single sight restoring
cataract surgery to under 10 dollars per darkness. The vast
surgery. Then with an enormous vol- majority will remain blind
ume, the 30 percent of the patients
who can pay not only subsidize the free until they die. Ninety
care for the remaining 70 percent of
patients but also allow the hospital to
percent of this blindness
expand and remain state of the art. could have been easily
The lens of the eye is similar to a
peanut M&M’s candy. It has an outer prevented or treated.
shell called a capsule surrounding a
hard peanut, the lens nucleus, that is
encased in a soft cortex of protein. With a cataract, the normally clear crystalline
proteins in the nucleus and cortex become opaque. Early cataract surgery involved
slicing the eye almost in half, removing the entire lens complex, and then giving
thick, “Coke bottle” aphakic glasses to help focus light. In the best of hands, the
results were moderate and visual recovery slow because of high astigmatism
induced by the large wound and distortions of the image seen through the thick
glasses. A major advance occurred when a British Surgeon, Harold Ridley, noted
that a Royal Airforce pilot from World War Two had a small chip of windshield in
his eye for more than twenty years without causing inflammation or damage. He
postulated that he could make a replacement for the natural lens of the eye from
the material of the windshield. This revolutionized cataract surgery.
Sir Harold Ridley’s idea has led to the great advances in cataract surgery.
Ophthalmologists now make a tiny self-sealing incision in the eye and a circular
opening in the capsule (candy shell). The nucleus and cortex are removed and a
replacement lens with the power calculated to give the patient excellent vision is
placed back in the capsule in its normal anatomic position, restoring natural
vision. Unfortunately, the cost of the replacement lens implants manufactured in
the developed world was prohibitive—well over a hundred dollars for the least
expensive brands. In order to provide cost-effective care, Dr. V. realized that the
cost of the intraocular lens implant used to restore best quality vision after cataract
surgery had to be reduced. In conjunction with Aravind, he began Aurolab which
manufactured high-quality lenses for 5 dollars in Madurai. Aurolab then expand-
ed to produce excellent low cost sutures for eye surgery, pharmaceuticals, and dis-
posables for surgery. They now sell full surgery packs with everything needed for
one cataract surgery for 10 dollars. Again, with an enormous volume and a high-
quality product Aravind’s compassionate capitalism has allowed care to extend
beyond their own bases in Tamil Nadu.
Doctors, nurses, and ophthalmic assistants from all over the world now come
to Aravind for training. Meanwhile they have developed a great local network of
outreach vision centers to screen patients. They perform outreach eye camps in the
poorest areas of Tamil Nadu and bus patients who are blind to Aravind for their
surgery. A combination of trained patient and family counselors, and attention to
details such as feeding the family members who accompany the blind person back
to Aravind for surgery, have led to a marked increase in cataract surgery volume.
Like McDonalds, Aravind has become the brand name even the poorest of India’s
poor can trust.
Aravind has also served as an inspiration and stating point for other systems.
The Tilganga Eye Care Hospital in Kathmandu Nepal, in conjunction with the
Himalayan Cataract Project of the USA and Fred Hollows Foundation of Australia
has achieved similar success. Led by Dr. Sanduk Ruit, who is one of the most bril-
liant innovators in ophthalmology, he is a master at delivering state of the art,
Western standard-care, at a low cost and providing the best possible care to the
poor. Dr. Ruit spent time at Aravind and brought many of their ideas to Nepal,
including starting a factory to produce low-cost lens implants. Similarly, many of
his surgical innovations have found their way back to Aravind and are now stan-
dard procedure.
However, the topography of Nepal is different from India. It is difficult to bus
poor patients into Kathmandu due to the lack of roads and isolation of many of
Nepal’s poorest villages. Moreover, there is not a sufficient population density to
support an ophthalmologist in the hilly regions. The strategy Tilganga adopted is
to train ophthalmic assistants to be based in the mountains providing primary eye
care, giving spectacles, and screening for eye disease. When a sufficient number of
people in any given region is blind from cataracts a mobile team comes to the
patients. Dr Ruit has perfected the art of setting up a sterile operation theater in
the most remote settings and providing outreach microsurgery with the same
quality as hospital-based surgery. Like Aravind, Tilganga has also emerged as an
international training center for high-quality eye care. The Tilganga model is now
being exported to many parts of Africa where similar geographic challenges pre-
vent patients from reaching care. Meanwhile the Aravind sytem is spreading
throughout India and extending into China.
Not long ago in Nepal and most of India it was an expectation that as people
grew older their hair would turn white, their eyes would turn white, and then they
would die. Although death is still inevitable, thanks to Aravind Eye Care blindness
in old age is no longer a certain outcome of a long life in Southern India. The chal-
lenge today is to extend that success to other regions of the world.
The top five infectious disease killers in the world are HIV/AIDS, tuberculosis,
malaria, respiratory infections, and diarrhea. None of these, not even HIV/AIDS,
has received sufficient focus by the pharmaceutical industry to meet global health
needs. Though these diseases have severe global social and economic conse-
quences, very few effective treatments are available. Further, there are insufficient
incentives for industry to invest in developing new safe, affordable and effective
treatments.
Over 60% of the world’s population lives in the places where these infectious
diseases are most prevalent: the tropics. These regions in the middle band around
the globe—places such as sub-Saharan Africa, the Indian sub-continent, South
East Asia, and parts of Latin America—have high population densities, high pover-
ty rates and climates that are favorable to insects that transmit disease. Each year,
millions of lives are lost to infectious diseases.
Why, in the 21st century, is it that in some places people can get medical treat-
Victoria Hale is founder and chief executive officer of the Institute for OneWorld
Health (iOWH). Dr. Hale has been elected to membership in the Institute of Medicine
of the National Academies, is the recipient John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur
Foundation Fellow (2006), and has been selected as an Ashoka Fellow. She received
the Executive of the Year by Esquire Magazine (2005), The Economist Innovation
Award for Social and Economic Innovation (2005), and the Skoll Award for Social
Entrepreneurship from the Skoll Foundation (2005). Dr. Hale established her expert-
ise in all stages of biopharmaceutical drug development at the US Food and Drug
Administration (FDA) and at Genentech, Inc., the world's first biotechnology compa-
ny. Dr. Hale earned her Ph.D. in Pharmaceutical Chemistry from the University of
California, San Francisco.
This case narrative appears, accompanied by a case discussion authored by Wesley
Yin, in volume 2, number 4, of Innovations.
The Schwab Foundation for Social Entrepreneurship has recognized Victoria Hale
as an Outstanding Social Entrepreneur.
ment for nearly any condition, or even for a mere complaint, while in other places
in the world millions of children die from diarrhea?
The reason is simple. The therapeutic drugs that exist today are produced by
for-profit pharmaceutical companies. These companies operate according to a very
strict business model that requires a certain return on investment to shareholders
for any project undertaken. Adhering to this business model leads these companies
to pursue drugs for wealthy countries, focusing on heart disease, diabetes, cancer
and so-called ‘lifestyle’ drugs. These targets of opportunity are consistently more
appealing than taking on the
challenge of treating tropical
infectious diseases in places
[F]ully one-third of the where other challenges, such as
world’s population lacks the lack of markets and distribu-
tion networks, also exist.
access to essential medicines, As a consequence, fully one-
and in the poorest regions of third of the world’s population
lacks access to essential medi-
Africa and Asia, this figure cines, and in the poorest regions
rises to one-half. of Africa and Asia, this figure
rises to one-half. Between 1975
and 1999, out of 1,393 new drugs
developed, only 13 were
designed to treat tropical diseases. That is less than 1 percent, even though tropi-
cal diseases account for more than 90 percent of the worldwide disease burden.
More broadly, only 10 percent of the US$70 billion spent on health research world-
wide each year is for research into the health problems that affect 90 percent of the
world’s population.
The idea behind the Institute of One World Health is to look at this so-called
“90/10 gap” as evidence not only of past failure, but also of future opportunity.
Without question, pharmaceutical companies need to make profits to make drugs.
The research that goes into discovery, design, and testing for safety and efficacy is
expensive. If we can find ways to redirect back to global health even a fraction of
the intellectual property and human resources of the global pharmaceutical com-
munity, we can make a real difference. That is our aim.
Today, iOWH has a staff of 80, in offices in the US and in India, with the sci-
entific and policy expertise needed to identify new drug opportunities, produce a
product development plan, and shepherd drugs through the regulatory approval
process. IOWH also has an array of research and development partnerships that
work with us to develop a range of products for a variety of diseases. And we have
formed the partnerships we need to manufacture and deliver the medicines we
produce.
science and discovery in the laboratory and exploring educated hunches. When
promising results are identified, they are taken through the lengthy and expensive
process of drug formulation and sequential testing in petri dishes, animals, and
humans. Only one drug in 10,000 that is discovered actually makes it to clinical tri-
als. Only one drug in ten that makes it to human testing makes it to the market.
Compounding the risk, of the few drugs that actually reach the market, 70% fail to
recoup their R&D investments.
In many cases, drugs are cast aside by standard, for-profit pharmaceutical
firms for reasons having nothing to do with their potential to benefit people. For
example, some drugs are simply not profitable in any known application. Others
may not compete successfully with other known candidates for a given disease. Still
others are discarded because they have unacceptable side effects for the population
the drug will treat, but may be acceptable for other populations. (For instance, a
new antibiotic that causes sleepiness may be unacceptable for people who need to
drive or go to work while taking the drug. But for a malaria patient or for a bedrid-
den patient facing certain death from an infectious disease, sleepiness may be a
perfectly acceptable side effect.)
IOWH has sought a different path. For starters, we do not operate any of our
own laboratories. Instead, we have pursued a strategy of networked innovation,
with an emphasis on streamlining the traditional process of bringing drugs to
market. We streamline in many ways, of which partnership is the most important.
We partner with investigators in the public and private sector to discover new
compounds with potential for treating neglected diseases. We partner with for-
profit pharmaceutical companies to try to find opportunities to match their cast-
offs—abandoned, discontinued or no longer profitable drugs—with neglected dis-
eases. And we partner with manufacturers, non-government organizations
(NGOs), and local infrastructure service providers to manufacture drugs and
deliver them to patients. Our core operations involve using our R&D experience to
coordinate and collaborate with these partners and, most importantly, identifying
the technological leads and securing the funding to create—and seize—opportu-
nities to save lives. (See Figure 1.)
We also aim to streamline the clinical trials process wherever possible. This of
course does not imply that we cut corners in terms of safety. Rather, if we don’t
need to do as many trials—perhaps because our drugs do not compete with exist-
ing drugs—then we don’t. Finding a late-stage drug to take over the finish line
enables us to get the most from our investments. Also, when we bring a drug to a
developing country’s regulatory approval boards, we work with the agency to find
the most straightforward path to satisfying the regulatory requirements that will
prove safety and efficacy. Ultimately, we still have to do many studies, just as any
other pharmaceutical company must do, and these studies can cost tens of millions
of dollars.
These costs have been one of the biggest challenges to our model. What
replaces profit when you remove it from the equation? We account for success in
human terms and we value each life equally rather than weighting them in terms
109
Victoria Hale
of ability or willingness to pay. We were working for the same global public health
outcomes as philanthropic organizations like the Bill and Melinda Gates
Foundation. We were pioneering a new business model that groups like the Skoll
Foundation and Schwab Foundation were looking to foster. Philanthropic funds
would be our main source of revenue, and capital would be put to work to achieve
a social return on investment.
But a shared sense of mission alone was not enough to persuade our current
partners at the Gates Foundation and elsewhere to support us in the earliest stages
of our development. What was required at the outset was a setting that would
enhance our prospects for success, enabling us to overcome the scientific, financial,
regulatory, and even political hurdles inherent in the development of drugs for
neglected diseases. For OneWorld Health, that setting was Bihar, India. The disease
was visceral leishmaniasis (VL), also known as “black fever,” or Kala-Azar by those
whom it afflicts.
been put three generations into debt to treat and save a relative. In contrast, the
promise of paromomycin was a cure from Kala-Azar for between US$10 and
US$15.
Because my staff and I had experience with drug development and the regula-
tory process in various settings around the world, we entered into the project with
full awareness of the obstacles that faced us in seeking to turn paromomycin into
a drug for Kala-Azar, and then
getting it approved. Among the
many obstacles, one had more to In August of 2006, the
do with politics than science: it
might be termed the “Constant Paromomycin IM Injection
Gardener” factor. The Constant was approved by the Drug
Gardener, a novel by John le
Carré, tells the tale of a multina- Controller General of India
tional drug company that took
advantage of the political vul-
for the treatment of visceral
nerability of a particular group leishmaniasis (VL), the
of people in Africa to test a new
drug with known adverse conse- medical name for Kala-Azar.
quences. Precisely because the
novel reflects aspects of reality
and past experience, Western pharmaceutical companies seeking to test drugs on
populations in poor places anywhere in the world are often received immediately
with suspicion. Lack of trust makes such projects difficult for for-profit pharma-
ceutical companies—in some cases, simply infeasible.
We also came to Bihar as outsiders. But we came with a goal not of increasing
the value of shares, but instead sharing the value of cures. With our public health
mission irrevocably encoded into our non-profit form of organization, we were
able to overcome the Constant Gardener factor. The mutual trust that we cultivat-
ed over a period of time allowed us to move forward with our trials even in the
most challenging rural environments in Bihar.
Reaching our initial goal—conducting clinical trials in Bihar for treatment of
Kala-Azar —took four years. When, at last in 2004, I went to a hospital in India
during a trial of our drug, the experience was exciting but also frightening. We had
one chance to get this right and show that we could repurpose a drug to treat a dis-
ease the world had forgotten. To fail would in some ways be worse than not hav-
ing tried at all, as we would potentially discourage future efforts. Seeing patients
treated with our drug suddenly sitting up, awake, aware, even hungry, provoked an
indescribable feeling of elation.
We submitted the drug to the Indian government for regulatory approval in
2006. In August of 2006, the Paromomycin IM Injection was approved by the Drug
Controller General of India for the treatment of visceral leishmaniasis (VL), the
medical name for Kala-Azar. The approval of Paromomycin IM Injection came less
than three months after the submission of the application for approval, which was
power to clinicians, who can now diagnose people, knowing that there is an acces-
sible cure to their devastating disease.
Our goal is to refine an effective and transferable access model, enabling us to
saves lives, to bring social change to families and communities and to expand our
reach beyond India and into other regions burdened by infectious disease.
If we are successful, this new product will build demand for new markets along
the way. From the manufacturing center in Hyderabad to the bedsides of patients,
this drug will create a demand for
transport, delivery, and storage.
Local communities become part-
[I]t is one thing to develop ners with iOWH by providing
and manufacture a drug that these services and providing med-
works, but it is quite another ical care. When a local communi-
ty becomes healthier both physi-
to get that drug to those who cally and economically, the result
can be a profound and far-reach-
need it. As difficult as it is to ing.
discover a promising In addition to affecting
change in rural areas, projects in
approach and then develop a this part of our value chain also
drug, the final stage of affect positive change in the
developed world by addressing
delivering treatment can be the emerging problem of what we
call innovation pile-up. There are
the most difficult. many innovations coming from
scientists and engineers who are
developing new tools to prevent
and treat patients. But getting these drugs and innovations out of the warehouse
and to the patient is often the most challenging part of the problem. When this
problem isn’t tackled, these innovations pile-up and become a burden and a dis-
appointment that could, eventually, squelch the creativity of those scientists who
invented them. By building channels for these innovations to flow through, iOWH
can help prevent innovation pile-up.
Over the past six years, the reception we receive has changed considerably.
Pharmaceutical scientists within the conventional drug companies understand the
challenge we are seeking to address, and, more importantly, can see the value of the
approach we propose. Some want to participate in iOWH during a sabbatical or
through fellowships. Others offer themselves as resources to be available to help
guide us. Even at the corporate level, there is an openness and willingness to talk.
We now have access to these companies. They want to know how they can con-
tribute. Where the doors of collaboration appeared less than a decade ago to be
shut, today they are open.
The result of this turn-around is that it makes our search for the next match-
up of an orphaned drug with a neglected disease that much easier. We have two
more in the works already. These new partnerships hold the promise of produc-
ing therapies that will cure people afflicted with malaria—the most deadly para-
sitic disease in the world—and diarrhea.
Our malaria program efforts fall solidly on the manufacturing and distribu-
tion links of the value chain. We are focusing on developing a supply chain for a
crucial malaria drug ingredient. The project involves a unique three-way partner-
ship between the iOWH, the University of California, Berkeley and Amyris
Biotechnologies. The partnership leverages new technology from Berkeley profes-
sor Jay Keasling and Amyris Biotechnologies that allows an anti-malarial drug pre-
cursor, artemisinic acid, to be manufactured using genetically engineered yeast.
Keasling and colleagues first described this new technology in the April 12, 2007
issue of the journal Nature. Prior to that discovery, only plants produced the com-
pound, making it an expensive and unreliable ingredient for a mass-produced
drug.
Despite this technological advancement, challenges remain. The yield of
artemisinic acid will need to be improved substantially in order to be economical-
ly acceptable for large-scale manufacturing. Moreover, iOWH must guide the
resulting drug through regulatory approval and contribute to its effective integra-
tion into the global market. We look forward to continued progress this year with
Amyris and UC Berkeley toward our goal of introducing microbially-derived
semisynthetic artemisinin into Artemisinin-based Combination Therapies (ACTs)
by 2010.
Our diarrhea program falls on the other end of the value chain. It focuses on
discovery. In 2006 the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation awarded us a US$46 mil-
lion grant to develop wholly new treatments to complement traditional approach-
es for fighting diarrhea. Diarrheal diseases are a leading cause of death in children
under the age of five worldwide, killing an estimated 2 million children each year.
Typically, children die of complications from dehydration. Therapies exist that
help rehydrate these children, but no effective therapy exists to stem the loss of flu-
ids in the first place.
Our efforts will focus on developing safe, effective and affordable new anti-
secretory drugs that inhibit intestinal fluid loss. These novel anti-secretory drugs
will be deployed as an adjunct to oral rehydration therapy for the treatment of
acute secretory diarrhea, which is responsible for nearly 40% of reported cases of
diarrheal disease globally. During 2006, the iOWH Diarrheal Disease Program ini-
tiated several new collaborations which include BioFocus DPI, who will apply their
medicinal chemistry and early stage drug development expertise to identify new
anti-secretory drugs, and the International Center for Diarrheal Disease Research
in Bangladesh (ICDDR,B), who will conduct pre-clinical studies.
NEGLECTED NO MORE
The Institute for One World Health is not the cure to global inequities of access to
medicines. If it is part of the solution, it will not be because of what we are able to
accomplish in isolation. Rather, it will be because others innovate at least as aggres-
sively as we have sought to, mobilizing resources, forming partnerships, affecting
changes in policy, and creating new paradigms that work for the poor, rather than
against them.
My own belief, however, is that new technologies, creative organizational
structures, and necessary re-alignments of incentives will be insufficient to bring
about such change unless all are combined with one other essential element: moral
outrage. When even a single life is wasted for want of a treatment that, if available,
could be provided for less than the cost of a box of Band-Aids, we as a global com-
munity have failed.
To address this failure will require an effort distributed across the globe, from
village clinics to corporate boardrooms—and it will necessitate great humility and
compassion. It may begin with the work of organizations such as ours in building
awareness and creating new opportunities for action. But it ends only when neg-
lected diseases, and the people they afflict, are neglected no more.
Acknowledgements
I am grateful to Jim Hickman, Ahvie Herskowitz, and Beth Doughterty for their
assistance in writing this case.
Animal trafficking, the third largest illegal trade in the world after drugs and arms,
is a US$20 billion business. Brazil is estimated to account for up to 15% of this
illicit global trade.1 In Brazil alone approximately 38 million animals are poached
every year, posing a deep threat to regional and global biodiversity. The trade is as
wasteful as it is massive; nine out of ten animals die while being captured or trans-
ported, often in torturous circumstances.
Animal trafficking is threatening Brazil’s biodiversity at an alarming rate. Over
the past 10 years, the official list of Brazilian animals threatened by extinction has
nearly doubled. Today, over 600 species are on this “death row.” Animal trafficking
has played a significant role in the growth of this list. Many species run the risk of
disappearing exclusively as a result of their illegal trade. In addition to contribut-
ing to the reduction of biodiversity, wild animal trafficking is responsible for the
transmission of diseases and disproportionately harms poverty-stricken commu-
nities.
As Environmental Secretary in the municipality of Três Rios, a small city in the
southern Brazilian state of Rio de Janeiro, in the mid-1990s, I was alarmed by a
growing number of incidents involving captured wild animals in my jurisdiction.
Dener Giovanini is founder of the National Network for Combating Wild Animal
Trafficking (RENCTAS). Prior to founding RENCTAS, Giovanini was Environmental
Secretary of Três Rios, a city in the Brazilian state of Rio de Janeiro. In 1999 he was
elected an Ashoka Fellow, and subsequently honored as a Schwab Social Entrepreneur.
In 2003 he was named co-winner of the United Nations Environment Program
(UNEP) Sasakawa Environment Prize, among the world’s most prestigious environ-
mental awards.
This case narrative originally appeared in volume 1, number 2, of Innovations.
The Schwab Foundation for Social Entrepreneurship has recognized Dener
Giovanini as an Outstanding Social Entrepreneur.
A BURGEONING TRADE
CAUSING ENVIRONMENTAL, SOCIAL, AND ECONOMIC DAMAGE
While animal trafficking has escalated dramatically in recent years, it is not a 20th-
century phenomenon. Five hundred years ago, when Europe began colonizing the
world, voyagers returned with unknown animals as evidence of having discovered
new continents. These animals drew attention and curiosity in Europe, and were
soon exhibited and traded in the streets.2 The possession of wild animals was a
symbol of power, wealth, and nobility. This status and curiosity fueled the creation
of a profitable business.
Brazil has long been a prime source of “exotic” animals. With an area covering
more than 8.47 million square kilometers, Brazil has one of the richest fauna
worldwide. It has the greatest number of species, with approximately 3,000 terres-
trial vertebrates and 3,000 fresh water fishes.3 Brazil is the richest country in mam-
mal diversity, with 524 species4 and ranks third in birds, with nearly 1,677 species,
5
fourth in reptiles, with 468 species, and first in amphibians, with 517 species.6
Traffickers plunder Brazil’s living resources for four markets. The first market
is made up of collectors and private zoos. Although these collectors and private
zoos hold illegally extracted animals, many in fact have government authorization
to operate. Private collectors are generally extremely wealthy individuals who
maintain collections for reasons of vanity. Although this is a serious problem in
Brazil, the problem is far more extensive abroad since these collectors are out of the
reach of Brazilian law. Supplying private collections is perhaps the most destruc-
tive type of wildlife trafficking because its primary focus is the most endangered
species; the rarer the species the higher an animal’s value. The lear’s macaw, for
example, fetches US$60,000 on the international market.
The second trade, biopiracy, extracts chemicals from animals for research and
production of medicines. This industry is growing daily, with the incursion of ille-
gal researchers within Brazil in search of new species. Huge revenues are garnered
from these activities. The nigriventer spider venom is coveted for research on a new
and more effective analgesic substance, with a value of up to US$4,000 a gram and
the market value for hypertension drugs uniquely derived from one Brazilian
snake species is US$500 million.
Biopiracy is supported through a complex operational system that navigates
loopholes in laws and discrepancies in international accords. Many animal and
plant-based chemical substances leave one country illegally but arrive at their final
destination as legal. This
occurs, among other rea-
sons, because the informa- Animal trafficking, the third
tion-sharing among
nations is still deficient. largest illegal trade in the world
Many countries allow pirat- after drugs and arms, is a US$20
ed animal materials to enter
their territory, unaware of billion business. Brazil is
their illegal origins. The
organized gangs who oper-
estimated to account for up to
ate in this market deploy 15% of this illicit global trade. In
diverse types of fraud, from
falsification of documents
Brazil alone approximately 38
to bribing public officials. million animals are poached
In some cases animal or
plant products are even every year, posing a deep threat to
patented, which requires regional and global biodiversity.
years to resolve through
international courts.
Pet animals are the
third market. Boas, turtles, macaws, marmosets, and many other creatures are cap-
tured; the few that survive end up in private homes in the United States, Europe,
Asia, or elsewhere. The fourth category, fauna products, consists of parts of ani-
mals, such as reptile skins or bird feathers, which are used as ornaments and in
crafts that cater to the fashion market.
Within Brazil, most stolen animals are transported by trafficking networks
operating across highways in trucks, buses, and cars. Corruption and fraud often
facilitate the process. According to the Brazilian Federal Police, smuggling is likely
to be supported and facilitated by government officers assigned to strategic posi-
tions such as ports, airports, and customs offices; on the international side,
researchers acting for international traffickers use government-issued credentials.
Also, “animal laundering” is carried out in Brazil through zoos or so-called scien-
tific, conservationist, or commercial breeding grounds which provide false certifi-
cates claiming that animals were born in captivity. Even when animals are recov-
ered during busts or sting operations, many cannot be returned to nature. Close to
60% are found in conditions so poor as to make their return impossible. These ani-
mals must spend the rest of their lives in captivity.
Brazil’s animal trafficking supply chain flows through three groups: suppliers,
middlemen, and consumers. Suppliers are usually extremely poor people from the
backlands of Brazil for whom the fauna trade is a supplementary source of income.
The middlemen range from regatões (boatmen of the Northern and Mid-Western
regions), to farmers, truck and bus drivers, and street peddlers. Small and medium
traffickers connect these rural middlemen with the larger, international networks.
Large-scale international traffickers operate globally and deploy the same smug-
gling and corruption tools as other international trafficking networks. Some zoos
and breeding grounds also participate at this level. On the consumer end, animals
and animal products land in homes, zoos, aquaria, circuses, private collections,
tanneries for industry, fashion stylists and producers, and pharmaceutical indus-
try.
Like the drug trade, animal trafficking capitalizes on an asymmetric econom-
ic relationship between the source, usually developing countries with fragile and
under-funded enforcement capacity, many of whose citizens desperately need
income, and the demand, wealthy countries with purchasing power. This dispari-
ty brings corruption, further eroding the ability of Brazil and other developing-
country governments to build strong and accountable institutions. The responsi-
bilities of the various enforcement agencies are fragmented geographically by local,
national, and regional jurisdictions and bureaucratically by “silos” of operation.
Their lack of coordination undermines the ability of enforcement agencies to take
on the complex networks used by traffickers to move animals from their point of
capture or breeding to the final purchaser.
An alarming development with far-reaching consequences for Brazil and other
nations is the integration of trafficking activities, especially between animal traf-
ficking and the drug trade.7 For example, officials in Miami recently apprehended
a shipment of snakes together with packages of cocaine. As animal traffickers
become part of larger and more violent global criminal organizations, their capac-
ity to outgun and outmaneuver enforcement efforts grows.
One area where animal trafficking differed notably from the drug trade was in
the degree of public awareness of the scope and scale of the problem. In Brazil in
the late 1990s, the animal trade was unknown. Ignorance of the problem spanned
all regions and socio-economic strata of Brazilian society. For example, in an arti-
cle published in a daily newspaper an economist and former elected representative
was quoted criticizing Brazilian environmental enforcement because it arrested a
German trafficker. According to him, the intention of the “poor fellow” was to help
Brazil get rid of such plagues as spiders and other venomous animals. The animal
trafficking business operated almost entirely under the radar.
When Raulff Lima, Sergio Peixoto, and I started RENCTAS in Três Rios in 1999,
information technology, including the Internet, was not part of our plan. Our
small team began by delivering workshops on the animal trafficking problem, and
giving me a “last chance” to withdraw our activities. This threat, coupled with an
increasing volume of e-mails from citizens and collaborators, made clear the
advantages–and necessity–of “going virtual.”
Although we were dragged by circumstance and frustration into the informa-
tion age, once online we were deliberate and aggressive in how we used our new
capacity. From this point forward we chose the Internet as the primary venue for
our work. The original core model of our virtual operation consisted of a website
we developed to allow ordinary citizens to report tips–instances of animal capture,
sale, transport, or illegal breeding. RENCTAS investigated the tips and passed the
findings to local law enforcement for action.
Our investigators also began using the Internet to scour auction sites, chat
rooms, and pet and collector bulletin boards for clues to illegal animal trafficking.
RENCTAS also employed old-school investigative tools such as the telephone and
even a CB radio to speak with truckers. The Internet, however, proved the most
efficient and effective way to gather information. As those who live by the sword
die by it, those who trade on the Internet can also get caught in it: One of our tech-
niques for identifying middlemen and sellers has been to pose as buyers on some
of the more than 5,000 animal sites that cater to animal traffickers.
The Internet has also provided a higher degree of anonymity to those wishing
to report animal trafficking crimes without being detected, as they might be by
walking into a local police station in a small town. But even with the Internet, we
must be careful. Given the risks inherent with digitally storing personal informa-
tion, all tips are immediately taken off computers and stored separately in safe
locations to protect the individual informers.
By the late 1990s, e-activism was nothing new. What was novel, however, was
our approach to it. Many NGOs were active online through chain-letter petitions,
letter-writing campaigns, and general list-serv-based forums for discussion. These
activities tended to be one-directional, directed at already mobilized constituents,
and they rarely linked the common citizen to tangible results. In contrast, we
internally mandated that each tip receive a personalized response and gave priori-
ty to updating our tipsters on the results of their contributions. It was clear to us
that virtual and anonymous online interactions required heavy personalization to
effectively build a community base.
From this model of heavily personalized online information brokerage, two chal-
lenges began to emerge. First, although RENCTAS could investigate many local
cases, enforcement spanned many local, sub-national, and national government
levels in Brazil, a huge country. A second growing challenge for our investigative
staff of two was the sheer volume of tips, which were coming into our system at an
average of 30 per day. The problem of improving our coordination with govern-
ment enforcement agencies was partially addressed by our move, after one year of
operation, from the state of Rio de Janeiro to Brasilia, the country’s capital, in
January 2000. This gave us proximity to the federal government’s federal police
and environmental agencies such as IBAMA (Brazilian Institute for Natural and
Renewable Resources) and the Ministry of Environment.
Our move to Brasilia also coincided with a shift in the balance between virtu-
al and traditional interactions.
While we maintained our website
for tip-gathering and for nation- The tips we received related,
wide reach—continuing to bro-
ker information between citizens variously, to each point along
and law enforcement officials—
we began to leverage the value of
the traffickers’ supply chain,
that capacity in novel and power- from source to final buyer. We
ful ways. The tips we received
related, variously, to each point
began to translate the
along the traffickers’ supply information in those tips into
chain, from source to final buyer.
We began to translate the infor- a clear picture of the trade.
mation in those tips into a clear
picture of the trade. By aggregat-
ing the bits and pieces we gath-
ered through the Internet, we achieved an understanding of the process of animal
trafficking unsurpassed by anyone except, perhaps, the traffickers themselves.
We used this aggregated information to tell a compelling, and tragic story. In
January 2000, at the same time as our move to Brasilia, Brazil’s largest television
network, Rede Globo, broadcast a five-part series on animal trafficking called “Life
for Sale” based on the work of RENCTAS.8 In addition to dramatically boosting
awareness of the problem, the Globo series generated an explosion of 28,000 new
tips, queries, and other information through the RENCTAS site from throughout
the country. In the Brazilian print press, coverage of animal trafficking in the
country’s four leading daily newspapers multiplied fourfold between 1999, the year
of RENCTAS’ inception and 2006. RENCTAS and the problem it combats have
been featured in the leading international press as well, including The Economist,
the BBC, National Geographic, and the Christian Science Monitor.
One reason our media work in Brazil has been so effective is that we have
appealed to a sense of national pride in one of our most distinctive attributes: our
biodiversity, as symbolized by beautiful and unique animals. Appealing to the
emotional side of the problem also served another purpose: it gave us political cov-
erage and thus protected us from counterattacks, be they from corrupt officials or
the traffickers themselves.
Increasingly we learned to manage the interplay between our Internet work
and press coverage of animal trafficking. For example, each time a story appeared
in a local newspaper, our staff sent e-mails with a link to the article to our sub-
scribers, encouraging people to write the newspaper to thank them for covering
the issue. This positive reinforcement motivated more coverage that, in turn, drove
even more traffic to RENCTAS. The dynamic between Internet and media ulti-
mately served our goal of creating awareness of a formerly invisible issue. The next
question was how to translate this awareness into changes in policy and practice.
We came to understand that many of the visitors to our website were environ-
mentalists who would respond to pleas for action. Using postings on the home
page of the site along with the “push” of e-mail messages to over 60,000 sub-
scribers, we developed the capacity to galvanize people to respond to specific issues
or threats. For example, at 9:00 a.m. one morning we learned that a measure with
harmful implications for wildlife conservation would be discussed and decided
upon that day at 11:00 a.m. in one of the Brazilian government agencies. We post-
ed the news on our site and via our e-mail listserv. By 10:30 a.m. 25 activists
dressed in black RENCTAS “uniforms” and wearing dark glasses were flashing
cameras at the participants arriving at the meeting. Our goal was to apply pressure
on decision makers by evoking an intimidating image, while suggesting that their
picture might appear in the media associated with an unpopular decision. We suc-
ceeded in influencing the outcome of this policy decision with only five minutes of
effort that morning. We increasingly use this type of “power of persuasion” to
accomplish our goals.
In our early efforts to build relationships with local, national, and international
government organizations, we found that government attitudes about the problem
encompassed everything from inertia to outright obstruction by officials who were
probably compromised by the trafficking trade. We developed a two-pronged
approach to meet this challenge. First, we discovered pockets of enthusiasm among
lower-level government technical staff, many of whom were committed to saving
the environment. In contrast to many more combative Brazilian activist NGOs at
the time, we were cooperative with the government. At the same time, RENCTAS
never accepted government grants or program support to ensure its complete
autonomy. This stance has played a key role in building trust and respect with gov-
ernment officials, who realized that RENCTAS was not after their money.
Our strategy of collaborative autonomy allowed us to build support from the
bottom up in ministries and police agencies. We combined this with top-down
political pressure generated by the increasingly visible cycle of media publicity and
the growing volume of tips and other forms of citizen involvement flowing into
RENCTAS through the Internet. RENCTAS and the animal trafficking problem in
Brazil could no longer be ignored. As a result of our efforts, the Brazilian
Parliament created an Inquiry Commission to investigate the problem and the
Federal Police launched and implemented a national campaign against animal
trafficking. Interpol, the Brazilian Federal Police, IBAMA (the Brazilian national
environmental agency), the U.S. Department of Justice, CITES (the Convention on
International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora, headquar-
tered in Switzerland), WEG (Wildlife Enforcement Group, New Zealand) have all
grown to depend on RENCTAS for information and collaboration.
As time progressed, RENCTAS has increasingly diversified its operations and
has taken on training programs for police, hosted international conferences, and
published a book detailing the levels and patterns of animal trafficking.9
Just as the Internet has evolved, so have we. While we continue to use the Internet
to drive enforcement, media coverage, activism, and public policy domestically
and internationally, we are also expanding our use of Web conferences and instant
messaging to interact online
in realtime with our collabo-
rators. We are also expanding As with all other forms of global
our use of “just-in-time”
activism, relying especially criminal networks, from drug
on our advocacy e-mail list of traffickers to terrorists, animal
60,000 thousand activists for
pointed, rapid mobilization trafficking networks increasingly
focused on public policy
decisions.
deploy technology to their
Ironically, while it was advantage to circumvent local
the traffickers who drove us
to the Internet in 1999, now enforcement and to capitalize on
we have driven them into the lack of both legislation to
more virtual spaces. The
clearest evidence of this is the regulate their online activities
disappearance of open mar- and government information-
kets in Brazil where, until a
couple of years ago, one sharing to pursue them.
could purchase huge varieties
of birds, reptiles, and even
primates. As with all other forms of global criminal networks, from drug traffick-
ers to terrorists, animal trafficking networks increasingly deploy technology to
their advantage to circumvent local enforcement and to capitalize on the lack of
both legislation to regulate their online activities and government information-
sharing to pursue them. Our challenge is to keep pace with them, which we do by
increasing our undercover presence in their online worlds. We are also working to
influence government regulation over these activities; most recently we succeeded
in providing the Brazilian justice ministry with information on over five thousand
violations based on our research of offers of illegal animal sales on the Internet.
One of our most significant recent actions has been to move directly into the
distribution channels by partnering with transportation companies that have
served, often but not always unwittingly, as the conduits for animal trafficking. We
currently partner with the Itapemirim Group, one of Brazil’s largest passenger
transportation companies. Itapemirim was even considered an “accomplice” of
traffickers by some sectors of the government and society since its buses were often
used by traffickers. This bad publicity eventually compelled Itapemirim to rethink
its position in the market. By partnering with RENCTAS, the firm and its clients,
suppliers, and employees have been educated to realize that they were victims, not
villains. We have conducted a massive joint PR campaign to raise awareness among
the company’s drivers and passengers about animal trafficking. A second effort to
reach into the traffickers’ transportation networks in Brazil involves our collabo-
ration with the Martins Group, one of Latin America’s largest trucking firms which
travels over all of Brazil’s roads. The company’s entire team of truck drivers has
been provided with awareness training.
The aim of our partnerships with both Itapemerim and Martins is to make it
more difficult for animal traffickers to use transportation networks to transport
animals. By educating the drivers, cargo handlers, those in management positions,
and even the firms’ clients, we increase the level of vigilance and make it more dif-
ficult for all of these people to be co-opted into the animal-trafficking process.
This, in turn, leads to fewer denunciations (tips) linked to specific buses or trucks
(due, we believe, to reduced trafficking) which in turn translates into better busi-
ness for the transportation companies.
LOOKING AHEAD
Our work has garnered public recognition. In 1999 I was honored to be awarded a
fellowship by Ashoka for my work with RENCTAS, and in 2003 I received the
United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) Sasakawa Environment Prize,
considered the highest distinction for environmental work in the world. In 2004,
Former Brazilian president José Sarney, then leader of the Brazilian Senate,
bestowed upon me the National Congressional Medal. At this ceremony he sum-
marized what we do:
The great merit of RENCTAS was, without doubt, to show Brazil a coun-
try we didn’t know. Today the trafficking of animals has come out from
the shadows thanks to the light that RENCTAS cast upon it to be seen by
all except those who refuse to look.
Indeed, lifting the curtain on this activity in Brazil is an important accomplish-
ment. However, just as trafficking is both global and domestic, our work increas-
ingly involves both spheres. The challenge at home still looms large. Perhaps our
biggest barrier is the relative lack of a civic and philanthropic culture to support
wildlife preservation in Brazil, among other things. Getting companies and citizens
on board in sustainable ways is a huge uphill battle in a country with a limited his-
tory in philanthropy or corporate responsibly. Many of our future efforts in Brazil
will be directed in this area. On the global front, we must raise awareness among
the consumers of animals and their products. Currently we are working with the
Brazilian Foreign Ministry to conduct an awareness campaign abroad with posters,
brochures, and other educational materials through our embassies worldwide.
Unfortunately, the accomplishments of RENCTAS and our colleagues in other
organizations can not ensure the survival of the 600 Brazilian species now on
extinction’s “death row,” nor can they ensure the sustainability of our planet’s bio-
diversity. As with arms and drugs, traffickers service a demand. Until citizens—
particularly individuals and institutions in industrialized countries—hold them-
selves and their governments fully responsible for curtailing consumer demand for
illegally traded animals, the traffic will continue.
Acknowledgements
I thank Winthrop Carty for his work in translating this paper from the Portuguese,
and providing invaluable assistance in framing and organizing the ideas presented.
I also thank Ashoka for their support along multiple dimensions, including the
development of a previous case study of RENCTAS.10
portation companies. Similar efforts are proceeding with the Martins Group, one
of Latin America's largest trucking firms. Efforts are also reaching outside Brazil to
put heat on consumers in Switzerland, the U.S., and elsewhere. Working from the
ground up, RENCTAS has produced credible analysis making the trafficking
industry more accessible to an aroused public. Giovanini was awarded prestigious
prizes by Ashoka and by the United Nations Environment Program.
Despite the progress, the trafficking problem remains. Some 600 animals in
Brazil remain on the endangered species list. The animal trafficking industry seems
to be merging with drug trafficking, which may make it more vicious and difficult
to control.
Still, given that so much activity has been generated so quickly and by so few
in the core organization, RENCTAS must be judged incredibly efficient and effec-
tive. What has made them so successful?
police, bus drivers, truck drivers, and others to stay connected to the movement.
Accessibility has been the prime benefit of global e-government for the past
decade and more. Net-delivered services are available 24/7 "online, not in line."
People have learned to both appreciate and expect the convenience.
More recently, people are learning that some kinds of group participation can
be fit into small blocks of time. You can get email on your Blackberry at the super-
market. That lets you keep up with some of the things that used to require a trip
and a meeting. For RENCTAS, this has allowed them to keep involved supporters
who, absent the Internet, would have found it too risky or time-consuming to be
of help.
A web site in Idaho offers another case that seems to be a frontrunner at mobi-
lizing the public by making demands for time and energy modest and digestible.
The site seeks to engage a balanced sample of individuals willing to vote in the state
primary elections and also devote one hour per year to issues coming before the
legislature. Keith Allred, the site's founder, meets with legislative staff and leaders
to scope out 20 or so issues likely to be decided in the upcoming session. He sum-
marizes each issue along with the most prominent positions taken (roughly a page
per issue). He tries to ensure that those taking the various positions accept the
validity of his summary. He then asks participants to use their promised hour to
study the issues and tell him what they want the legislature to do. He analyzes his
results for issues where the public response is clear (70% or more for one position)
AND is different from what those at the capitol think will come out of the legisla-
tive process. What he wants, in short, is to get the voice of the common interest
heard more clearly by the legislature (and by the media and the public). In the past
year, several positions he has identified in this way have won out over positions
supported by the most powerful and successful lobbyists in the state.
Making participation accessible can be powerful.
Transparency
The Internet and computer-based tools can also be used to increase transparency
in otherwise complex and confusing situations. Data can be indexed and analyzed
so it can be found, and so individual pieces can be aggregated into meaningful big-
ger pictures.
Both capabilities were important for RENCTAS. The case notes a major moti-
vating event early in Giovanini's work when he couldn't find a file soon enough to
meet legal requirements and a poacher therefore had to be released. That got him
to computerize all his records for rapid retrieval, updating, and sharing over the
net.
RENCTAS used this retrieval, updating, and sharing to maintain records that
provided feedback and reinforcement to field informants. While informants
remained safely anonymous, they could see what happened to their tips, and could
also see how their group in the aggregate was having a major impact.
Beyond simple aggregations, computers were used to collect new data and
massage it into a better understanding of the entire trafficking industry. Sleuthing
via the web allowed RENCTAS to get clues on the enemy (e.g., via undercover work
in chat rooms where exotic animals were being sold). Adding their own data to
what they acquired over the web (and elsewhere), they were soon able to under-
stand more of the trafficking trade than was visible to most of the Brazilian
authorities. This made RENCTAS a valuable source of research. It also gave them
legitimacy with television people and the press. Those people, in turn, wrote sto-
ries that fed back to improve RENCTAS' legitimacy with the public.
The data that RENCTAS was able to assemble and analyze made new things
visible, for example, to senior managers within the Itapemirim and Martins
groups. These people could suddenly see the extent to which their buses or trucks
were implicated in illegal activities. Perhaps more important, RENCTAS analysis
could communicate the vulnerability that firms would face with an aroused pub-
lic that was also beginning to see and understand the data. Transparency led, as it
typically does, to heightened accountability.
Movement from analysis to transparency to accountability and responsiveness
was precisely what happened years earlier in the U.S. when the Toxics Release
Inventory data was made public in 1987. The law required firms to report their
toxics emissions to EPA. It then required EPA to make all the data available to the
public in computer-readable form. This reporting allowed a variety of groups
inside and outside of government to make it easy for individuals and community
groups to find out about emissions from plants near where they lived or worked.
It also allowed senior managers in those firms to find out about plants that were
bad polluters in comparison to other plants. The increased transparency led in
many cases to a quick assumption of accountability and "voluntary" corrective
actions that had not been possible before. Because of the transparency, the public
paid more attention, and because of the public's attention, the firms abated their
pollution.
Making the system transparent can be powerful.
(A number of the factors mentioned about the RENCTAS story are summa-
rized in Figure 1.)
Emotional Communications
While we typically use logic to rationalize decisions, we actually make those deci-
sions emotionally. Emotion drives our wants and desires, thus structuring and
motivating our decisions.
Text is efficient and effective for conveying concepts. While text can also be
powerful emotionally, much of our brain is wired for other signals. Visual inputs
get much attention, as do sounds and smells and taste and touch.
RENCTAS has long understood—at least implicitly—that the story of animal
trafficking and why it must be stopped needs to be carried by more than the data.
The RENCTAS site has accordingly used the Internet to tell stories and illustrate
with pictures. More recently, as the Internet increasingly supports broadband, full-
motion video and sound are frequently used for engaging story-telling.
Such communications carry emotional connections. They help explain how
RENCTAS has engaged and motivated its supporters to proudly protect Brazil's
animals.
RENCTAS was particularly wise after their move to Brasilia to reach out to the
government-oriented television media located there. Much as RENCTAS had ear-
lier made reporting easy for the public they had wanted to recruit as informants
and supporters, in Brasilia they also made it easy for television reporters to devel-
op stories and visual materials. The television in turn had a huge impact on pub-
lic awareness.
Stories and other emotional material have been central to human communi-
cations since the post-hunt campfires organized before writing was even invented.
We interpret body language, voice, and facial expressions and are moved. As the
internet supports video more pervasively, it is becoming increasingly important as
an organizing tool.
For example, the Internet's ability to carry emotion to a dispersed audience
was recently used to stop a proposed water desalination plant in Monterrey Bay,
Mexico. The construction proposed by Toyota in Japan would have become the
world's largest desalination facility and created more than a thousand long-term
jobs. The issues raised were largely environmental, focused on effluents in the Bay.
The environmental community used the Internet effectively to mobilize sup-
port against the plant. They brought activists including Hollywood actors down to
the bay and took video of the humpback whales who calved in the waters there.
They used these videos effectively along with a letter-writing campaign to thou-
sands of mid-level managers at Toyota back in Japan.
What is interesting for this analysis is that the emotional campaign—carried
largely by pictures, video, voice, and humpback whale sounds—was promoted pri-
marily by people outside of Mexico rather than locals, yet was effective politically
within Mexico. The plant was scuttled.
Communicating emotional connections can be powerful.
investigative and informational purposes. Giovanini notes that the Internet has
also helped in another way—offering a higher degree of anonymity, and therefore
personal safety, to people passing along tips about instances of illegal animal traf-
ficking. Yet this anonymity is double-sided, for equally cyber savvy smuggling net-
works also use it to create and expand their markets.
WWF began using the net as an investigative tool in the early 1990s, when our
“Eyes and Ears” Campaign, a pilot project in the U.K., set up a web-based report-
ing system to receive tips and keep track of suspicious activity related to wildlife.
Initially, most of the “tips” we received concerned common species that could be
traded legally. But as both the Internet grew and public awareness increased as a
result of our efforts, we began to see a profound change. On the one hand, the
quantity and the quality of the information we received grew enormously. On the
other hand, we soon discovered that the trade itself had also moved online.
The change, since the early days of the Internet, has been staggering. Today,
much of the trade in wildlife is initiated on websites and negotiated via email and
instant messaging. As the battle lines shift from the jungle to the chat room, the
challenge moving forward lies in figuring out how to stay a step ahead of the
traders.
Our own conviction is that the Internet may help us to win some battles but
will not win the war. What else must we do?
It is generally acknowledged, among conservationists and law enforcement
officials, that the best way to combat the wildlife trade is by following it from
source to consumer and by putting intervention points in place along the way to
impede it. If a shipment is missed at export it may be caught upon import. The key
here lies in establishing and strengthening wildlife enforcement networks.
A good example is the Association of South East Asian Nations Wildlife
Enforcement Network (ASEAN-WEN). Established little more than a year ago, it
is already showing how working together within a region can achieve real results
and deter wildlife criminals through cross border initiatives. It is a model that
South America could easily adopt.
Conservation groups also need to network better. The models developed by
national and regional groups like RENCTAS, and international ones like WWF,
should be better integrated so that we can share information and coordinate our
efforts across country and regional boundaries. This is what we've been asking
governments and law enforcement agencies to do for years.
Let's stop asking and show them how to do it.
Developing Information
Technology to Meet Social Needs
Innovations Case Narrative: Benetech
Technology can be an immense force for good in the world. However, if a technol-
ogy innovation doesn’t generate major financial returns, it rarely is pursued.
Overcoming market failure in socially beneficial applications of information tech-
nology is the objective of my organization, Benetech. We build innovative technol-
ogy solutions and widely promote entrepreneurial models for developing projects
in the nonprofit community. Benetech was founded as a nonprofit social enter-
prise in 1989 to pursue the making of affordable reading machines for the blind,
because the market wasn’t interesting to my original, venture-capital backed, com-
pany. We’ve since branched out into three major fields in the social sector, helping
provide technology solutions to people with disabilities, human rights groups and
environmental groups. This case study will present Benetech’s history and show
how we’ve adapted the high tech company to developing technology for social
causes.
Benetech is a strong example of social entrepreneurship. We are part of a grow-
ing movement of people taking new approaches to solving social problems. A hall-
mark of this movement is approaching these problems in partnership with the
communities we want to help. This approach melds features from business and the
social sector, creating hybrid solutions. In some cases, the people we want to serve
are our customers, providing the market-based feedback that keeps us focused on
the needs of our users. In other cases, there is no revenue model, but the value
A technology entrepreneur and engineer, Jim Fruchterman has been a rocket scientist,
founded two of the foremost optical character recognition companies, and developed a
successful line of reading machines for the blind. He is now a leading social entrepre-
neur through his deliberately nonprofit technology company, Benetech. Benetech con-
centrates on applying technology to human rights and literacy for people with disabil-
ities. Fruchterman has won numerous awards for his work, including the 2006
MacArthur Fellowship and the Skoll Award for Social Entrepreneurship in 2004 and
2006.
This case narrative appears, accompanied by a case discussion authored by Gregg
Vanderheiden, in volume 2, number 4, of Innovations.
The Schwab Foundation for Social Entrepreneurship has recognized Jim
Fruchterman as an Outstanding Social Entrepreneur.
exchanged is still real and shapes our accountability to our partners. In general,
social entrepreneurs are tackling market failures, meeting needs where business
entrepreneurs are unlikely or unwilling to fulfill. Yet, treating the communities we
serve more like customers than the recipients of charitable beneficence reflects the
new realities of global society. More to the point, it works.
To make a long story short, the three of us started Calera Recognition Systems
together and ended up raising $25 million in venture capital. We invented the first
successful omnifont character recognition technology: a machine that could read
just about any machine-printed font without requiring human training. This tech-
nology had many commercial applications: scanning contracts for lawyers and
claim forms for insurance companies, and routing the mail for the post office. But,
the reading machine for the blind was always the application that had my heart: I
wanted to see us build that.
My passion was shared by the rest of the team at Calera, and the marketing and
engineering teams got together and built a prototype as a secret project. The
moment of truth came in a board meeting where we demonstrated the prototype
to our venture investors. The prototype, which at the time cost $50,000, took a
page of text and ran it through the scanner, taking a digital photograph of the page.
The optical character recognition turned the picture of the page into a word
processor text file, just as if someone had typed it in by hand. Then, a voice syn-
thesizer read the text aloud in a very mechanical voice. The board was intrigued,
and asked me (then the VP of Marketing) how large the market was for reading
machines for the blind. My answer was roughly one million dollars per year. This
was met with silence in the boardroom.
Calera’s investors understood why this was exciting as a product, but were also
quite clear that a $1 million per year market was not the $100 million per year mar-
ket they had been promised. To get the returns they needed on a $25 million
investment, they needed us to focus on that larger market. And they didn’t want us
to dilute our focus with a much smaller opportunity such as a reading machine for
the blind.
I reluctantly understood their position. We owed them our concentration on
making their investment worthwhile. But I was still disappointed. Helping the
blind was such a cool application, but not lucrative. How could we still do it, even
though it wouldn’t make a lot of money?
Gerry Davis, who was the software licensing lawyer for Calera, was sympathet-
ic to my problem. His idea was that we could start a deliberately nonprofit tech-
nology company to make reading machines for the blind. It would be structured
as a charity corporation, but operate like a technology company, designing and
building products for the blind. We hadn’t heard of anyone doing this, but Gerry
thought it would be possible and offered to take it to the Internal Revenue Service
as a pro bono project.
Soon thereafter, it came time for me to move on from Calera after working
there for seven years. The new CEO was very concerned about the possibility of me
competing with Calera or hiring away the engineers. So, in exchange for a non-
compete and a no-hire agreement, I obtained Calera’s agreement that I could start
a nonprofit to make reading machines for the blind, since they were clear that they
didn’t want to take on that product themselves. Gerry Davis’ law firm convinced
the IRS to approve our application as a charity and Benetech was born.
ARKENSTONE READERS
I named the new organization Arkenstone, after the gem in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The
Hobbit. Arkenstone surprised me: it was the only technology company with which
I had been associated that exceeded the expectations in its business plan. We hit
five million dollars in revenue in our third year and were actually profitable.
Our approach was considered highly innovative in the field of adaptive tech-
nology for people with disabilities. From my background in the tech industry, I
was simply using lessons I and other tech entrepreneurs had already learned. So
much innovation is actually borrowing a great idea from one field and applying it
to another. And so it was for Arkenstone.
Arkenstone innovated in three major ways: platform-based design, financial
structure, and a user-centered approach. Together, these helped us revolutionize
the availability of reading systems to blind people around the world, bringing this
capability to at least 100 times more people.
Platform-based Design
When we started, there was an existing reading machine for the blind, the Xerox-
Kurzweil Reader, which was a fine piece of engineering. However, it was custom-
built for the blind. Low production volumes made it very expensive to produce and
at least $10,000 to purchase. Our first innovation was to build our reading machine
based on the emerging personal computer platform. Initially, this was the IBM PC-
AT platform. We knew that every year PCs would get better and cheaper.
Our initial reading machine had four major components: the PC, the Calera
OCR board, a DECtalk voice synthesizer board, and a Hewlett Packard scanner.
Together, these three additional pieces turned a standard PC into a reading
machine. You could put a piece of paper or a book on the scanner, press the space
bar on the PC, and sixty seconds later the DECtalk would be reading the page
aloud to the user. Because it was based on a PC, it cost less than $5,000 to buy a
reading system when we launched it in 1989. And, over the next ten years, that
price went from 5K to 4K to 3K to 2K to 1.5K to 1.2 thousand dollars. Each time
the price went down, our unit volumes went up and our revenues stayed about the
same. As a result, more and more people got the benefit of this technology.
Financial Structure
I had spent five years as Calera’s Chief Financial Officer, which helped me under-
stand the challenges of starting a new venture. We knew we couldn’t raise money
from venture capitalists: the returns weren’t there. It didn’t even occur to us to talk
to foundations. So, we structured Arkenstone based on trade credit. We didn’t offer
our customers credit; they had to pay for the reading machines when they bought
them with cash or credit card. Calera, Hewlett Packard and DEC all allowed us to
pay them in 45 to 60 days. This difference in payment terms provided us with
enough capital to build a $5-million- per-year venture with only a $2,000 loan
from me to start up. We were still undercapitalized, but it was enough to run the
operation.
Arkenstone’s Success
Arkenstone quickly became the largest maker of reading systems for the blind. We
had assumed that the market was only $1 million per year, but we were wrong.
Within three years we were doing $5 million in annual sales. Part of the reason for
this was that many, many blind people had wanted the Xerox/Kurzweil reading
machine, but couldn’t afford it. Once we brought the price under $5,000, sudden-
ly they could afford these machines and they bought them. Arkenstone is still the
only high tech venture I’ve been associated with that actually exceeded its business
plan partly because our expectations were set so low.
Arkenstone rapidly expanded outside the United States. As soon as we sold an
English-reading machine, we had interested customers in many countries. When
we added Spanish, we enlarged our market even more. Soon, Arkenstone became
a leading machine in Canada, the UK, South Africa, Germany, France, Italy,
Portugal and so on. We adapted the reading machine to read almost all of the west-
ern European languages. We eventually had users in sixty countries reading a
dozen different languages.
Using our inside track of information from our contacts in the technology
industry, we knew that character recognition would soon move from a specialized
circuit board to a software-only solution which would decrease prices even more.
We developed and launched Open Book, the first talking Windows software prod-
uct for the blind. It was available both as a bundled reading machine for the blind
with a small keyboard, and as a software package that turned a PC into a reading
system.
After five years, we surveyed our customers. We learned some astonishing
things. First, we found that our technology abandonment rate after one year was
under 10%. Over 90% of our users were still using their reading machine one year
after purchase. We felt that compared very favorably compared to other assistive
technology, which often has abandonment rates over 50%.1 By selling reading
machines rather than giving them away, we believed we engaged our users in much
more depth. Second, we found that roughly 15% of our users weren’t blind at all:
they had learning disabilities such as dyslexia. We had heard stories of dyslexic
users, but we had no idea that they represented such a large percentage of our
users, with no effort on our part and with a product that in retrospect was poorly
suited to the needs of someone who could see, but struggled to read.
It turned out that one feature was key. Our Open Book software highlighted
each word visually as the voice synthesizer read it aloud. That way, a low vision (or
dyslexic) user could see and hear the word at the same time. Multi-modal input
turns out to be a key part of many techniques for teaching reading skills to students
with dyslexia. The rest of the user interface was, however, designed for someone
who couldn’t see and used the keyboard exclusively to interact with our software.
We had to redesign it completely for the needs of these different users, people who
could see and preferred a visual interface that used the computer’s mouse.
We built a completely different product on top of the same character recogni-
tion and voice synthesizer technology. Its name came about as a play on technical
words. During that time, word processors were touting that What You See is What
You Get (WYSIWYG), pronounced whizzy-wig. We wanted our dyslexic to get the
interface they needed, so it became nicknamed WYN: What You See is What You
Need. By the time it came to launch the product, we liked the codename so much
we ended up settling on WYNN: What You Need Now. The interface could be com-
pletely driven by the mouse, and the visual display could be extensively modified
to fit the user’s needs. The user could see the page as a picture, with the text and
graphics together, with the words being spotlighted as spoken on the picture of the
page of text. Or, they could see a text version of the page, with the color scheme,
size, spacing and font adjustable for each person.
We prototyped it with learning disabled students at the University of
California, Berkeley. These were very bright students who entered Berkeley and
suddenly came face to face with the fact they couldn’t keep up with the greatly
increased amount of reading (and lacked access to the relatives who had read to
them in high school). These students helped us build what turned out to be a great
product for helping them get through school.
We also made a modified version of our reading system for senior citizens.
Although seniors represent the majority of the blind, they had always been a small
part of Arkenstone’s users. PCs were intimidating, especially for a cohort of sen-
iors that had not used computers in the workplace. So, we hid the PC and scanner
inside a wood-veneered box and called it VERA, for Very Easy Reading Appliance.
We wanted it to look like high-end stereo equipment.
Each of these reading machines aimed at different segments of people who
couldn’t pick up and read a printed book or document. By the end of 1999,
Arkenstone had sold over 35,000 reading machines all over the world. It was an
exciting venture, but not all of the things we tried went well.
Arkenstone’s Challenges
Even from the early days, we saw social needs where we thought technology could
be well applied, needs the market was also failing to meet. In the early 1990s, I was
interested in helping the human rights movement, as I discuss below in more
detail. We also had lots of ideas for new products to help the blind.
One of our first five Arkenstone users said the following to me: “All my life, I
have wanted to read a book and drive a car.” He continued, “Now, thanks to
Arkenstone I can read a book. When are you going to help me drive a car?” Our
first employee, Mickey Quenzer, was blind and took the bus to work. One day, he
arrived late and was complaining bitterly about the bus driver who had dropped
him at the wrong stop. “If I ever get to drive a car, I’d like to run that guy over!” I
know that Mickey was kidding, but it made me think about what it would take to
help deal with the problem of personal mobility. We broke the problem into ori-
entation - where am I and how do I get to where I want to go, and mobility - how
do I actually travel between here and there safely? Hearing about the Global
Positioning System, it occurred to us that a talking GPS locator would be very
helpful to blind people.
Doing some research, we found that a visually impaired graduate student,
Charles Lapierre, in Canada was also working on this problem for his master’s the-
sis. Charles joined us via our Canadian development partner, VisuAide; together
with two other Arkenstone engineers, we got a patent on a talking GPS locator for
the blind, which we ended up naming Strider (another Tolkien reference). A tal-
ented blind executive, Mike May, was our Vice President of Sales, and he fell in love
with the product. However, it was challenging to finance this project. Our reading
machine business was operating close to break-even, and we diverted engineering
resources away from our core business onto Strider. This created an opportunity
for a new competitor in the reading machine field, Ray Kurzweil’s second reading
machine company, to gain ground, which increased the financial pressure on us.
Finally, something had to give. We had to lay off some of our staff, which was
personally very painful. Our entire team was dedicated to our mission and we had
let them down. We also put the Strider project on ice. Mike May, who had agreed
that Strider wasn’t going to make money in the short term, asked to spin the
Strider project out of Arkenstone because it was too important to let die. After sev-
eral years barely surviving, Mike’s perseverance paid off and he was able to secure
a multi-million dollar federal research project which carried the project until it
became the viable and suc-
cessful enterprise it is today.
We had come face-to-face with We refocused our team
on the reading systems and
one of the biggest problems of regained our momentum in
social enterprises. Low our core business. But, we
had come face-to-face with
profitability makes it well-nigh one of the biggest problems
impossible to find the funds to of social enterprises. Low
profitability makes it well-
invest in new projects. nigh impossible to find the
funds to invest in new proj-
ects. I found this personally
frustrating, because I had been doing the same thing for a decade. Although the
work was rewarding, I wanted new challenges. We needed to do more.
this opportunity.
Selling a nonprofit is more complex than selling a for-profit. We needed to
convince the office of the California attorney general that doing this deal was in the
best interest of the public. One way to think of a nonprofit is that it’s owned by the
taxpaying public and needs to be operated for the benefit of society. Our case to
the attorney general was straightforward. Before the deal, one social enterprise;
after the deal, three social enterprises (one for-profit run by Chandler and two
nonprofit projects run by us). Also, we committed to keep all of the funds in the
social sector (not that this is optional under nonprofit law). So, I didn’t get to
pocket the money, but I did get to control it as my new budget. The AG’s office
approved the sale, and in June, 2000, we sold the Arkenstone business to Chandler’s
newly-created company, Freedom Scientific. Since we had to sell the brand name
of Arkenstone as part of the deal, we changed the nonprofit’s name to Benetech
and began a new phase in our life.
Martus
In 1993, I’d read a story about the El Mozote massacre, which happened in El
Salvador in 1981. I was bothered that more than 700 people could be killed, and it
could take a dozen years before the world actually believed the massacre had hap-
pened. The tough question was how to protect people from this kind of atrocity.
Dave Ross and I hiked in the hills above Stanford and Silicon Valley, brainstorm-
ing about this challenge. Being geeks, we tried to come up with fancy technology
solutions around defending people, but none of them made sense. We realized that
the only tool to fight human rights abuse is the truth. If we could get the right
information to the right people, quickly and reliably, we could address impunity.
If committing atrocities led to consequences more quickly, it would discourage this
kind of abuse. We called this idea Witness and immediately grabbed the domain
name. As I went around talking to human rights groups, like Human Rights Watch
and Amnesty International, I learned there already was a Witness Project in the
human rights field. Dave Ross suggested we rename it Martus, the Greek word for
witness, and the name stuck. We handed the Witness.org domain over to the
Witness project, which has done great work around video applications in human
rights.
Our initial idea was spying for human rights, using the same kind of technol-
bers better access to the press and political connections. They also play a role in
quality control: membership in a bona fide network confers more credibility to the
reports of a grassroots group.
Regional and international groups concentrate the human rights information
even more. This information is aggregated and processed into higher value forms.
The single incident of human rights abuse is combined with other incidents into a
pattern of abuse. These patterns are the basis for international human rights cam-
paigns against torture, slavery or abuse of indigenous people.
At the top of the
human rights pyramid
are the organizations
with the greatest influ- The human rights sector is an
ence and authority. The information processing industry.
United Nations, fol-
lowed by Human Because of the limited resources
Rights Watch, Amnesty available, computers and
International and the
Lawyers Committee for information technology are not
Human Rights, have the
greatest reputation and
used to anywhere near full
credibility with the potential. The paradox of the
press, diplomats and
governments. For human rights community is that it
example, the typical is an information-processing
output from Human
Rights Watch is a care- industry that has limited access to
fully researched report information technology.
covering a national or
regional problem.
These reports don’t
include all of the individual incidents that have been reported. The Human Rights
Watch brand has come to mean high quality, exhaustively researched, authoritative
reporting on human rights issues.
The common product of the human rights community at all levels in the pyra-
mid is information. The human rights sector is an information processing indus-
try. Because of the limited resources available, computers and information tech-
nology are not used to anywhere near full potential. The paradox of the human
rights community is that it is an information-processing industry that has limited
access to information technology.
We identified the field workers as being least served with information technol-
ogy. The big groups, like the U.N. and Human Rights Watch, had good technolo-
gy, but their field staffs were struggling. We traveled around the world, talking to
human rights groups in Sri Lanka, Cambodia, Guatemala, and Russia. We learned
that they needed very simple tools that could help them collect human rights vio-
lation information. We decided to build the Martus tool that met their needs.
The first piece is the Martus client: a piece of software that works on the
human rights activist’s personal computer. Although we originally thought we
could create do our software project over the web, we quickly learned that Internet
connectivity was spotty and expensive for our planned users. So, to collect the data,
we built a standalone piece of software that looked like simple email software. The
human rights abuse information would be stored in bulletins, and these would be
encrypted for security reasons. The encryption scrambles the data so it can’t be
read by other people who might steal the PC or intercept the information.
Whenever the PC was connected to the Internet, the bulletins would be sent to a
secure backup server of their choice, usually located in another country. Then, the
bulletins would get copied to more servers around the world, ensuring that the
human rights information wouldn’t be lost. This information stays encrypted so
that the people operating the servers couldn’t read it: even Benetech staff cannot
open the encrypted data. At the request of users, we added the option to make
some of the bulletin information public and created a different kind of server, a
Martus Search engine, which allows anybody in the world to read the information
about human rights abuse that the local group chooses to share.
Results: Human rights groups around the world now capture violations data
using Martus, which is available in languages such as English, Spanish, French,
Russian, Arabic, Thai and Nepali. The Guatemalan police archive project is the
largest single user, with more than 50,000 Martus bulletins about human rights
violations during the 20th century. Patrick Ball brought his human rights analysis
team to Benetech in 2003 with its Analyzer human rights statistics software, and
we help many countries answer the question of who did what to whom. Patrick
and his team have been involved with the majority of truth commissions over the
last decade. An example of Patrick’s influence was his role as the lead-off expert
witness in Slobodan Milosevic’s war crimes trial in The Hague. As the intellectual
father of Martus, Patrick is now the Director of our combined Human Rights
Program, which is now the leading provider of human rights technology and sta-
tistics research.
Bookshare.org
Our second new Benetech idea came from my teenage son Jimmy. Right before we
sold Arkenstone, I found an interesting new icon on my home PC. I asked Jimmy
about it and he told me that it was called Napster, and it was for downloading
music. Much to my delight, we spent an hour together playing with it and trading
off listening to music that Jimmy liked from the 1990s, and that I liked from the
1970s. The technology was impressive. At the end of the hour, I asked Jimmy how
much we were paying for this great service. “Paying?” was his answer, and I realized
that this was almost certainly illegal. But it was very cool. I quickly recognized how
the Napster-style approach could help people with disabilities. Hundreds of
Arkenstone users were scanning the exact same book over and over again. What if
they could share the books they scanned over the Internet? Then, we’d save many,
many hours of effort and greatly increase the availability of books.
I checked in with Gerry Davis, my problem-solving attorney, and we quickly
figured out that it was actually 100% legal under U.S. copyright law. Right in the
basic national copyright law, it said that copyright owners had the right to control
copying of their works, subject to roughly twenty exceptions for uses like libraries,
educational and fair use. One of these exceptions said that it was not a violation of
copyright restrictions for a nonprofit organization to make accessible copies of
books available to people with bona fide disabilities that kept them from reading
print books. Although no one had thought of a Napster-style solution when the
exception was put into the law, it fit our needs perfectly. We briefly called the proj-
ect Bookster, but within a short time we were convinced to rename it Bookshare to
avoid offending publishers.
Gerry also came up with a great idea to talk to the publishing industry. Rather
than spring Bookshare on them out of the blue, we would talk to them well in
advance of the launch. So, a year before Bookshare was ready, Gerry got us a meet-
ing with the Copyright Committee of the Association of American Publishers. This
committee is made up of the top lawyers from the major publishers. We explained
how we would honor the social bargain in the legal exception: help people with
disabilities while not hurting the business interests of publishers and authors.
Giving them a year to work with us to keep this social bargain gained us tremen-
dous credibility with the publishers and convinced them to not sue us.
Our shorthand description of Bookshare was Amazon.com meets Napster
meets Talking Books for the Blind, but legal! At the core of Bookshare is the
Bookshare.org website. It was set up to provide a place on the Internet where peo-
ple with disabilities could share their books legally. Members signed up and paid a
nominal fee to be able to access the books ($75 for the first year for all the books
you could read). Members had to provide proof of a qualifying disability, and agree
to use the books only for their own use and not provide them to other people.
Rather than us choosing the books in this new library, as had been traditionally
done by libraries for the blind, our members choose the books to be added. If one
person thinks a book is worth scanning and sharing, it will become available to the
entire community. Our users are in charge of collection development for
Bookshare.org, choosing over 80% of the titles that get added to the collection.
Results: Our volunteers have already provided Bookshare.org with more than
35,000 books, and we now have more than 100 daily newspapers available each
morning through a partnership with the National Federation of the Blind
Newsline program and the nation’s newspapers.
A person with a disability, such as blindness, goes to our website using their
talking screen reader or Braille access solution and searches for a book or newspa-
per. The user logs in and then is allowed to download the materials they want. The
book (or newspaper) is copied onto their PC hard drive as text. The text of the
book can then be read aloud with a synthetic speech synthesizer, enlarged for the
low vision person, or turned into Braille for a Braille reader.
Results: We felt that the subscription fees would over the long term provide the
funding to keep Bookshare.org going. At the time of this writing, the U.S.
Department of Education has just decided to pay for all schools and students with
print disabilities in the U.S. to receive Bookshare.org. So, in 2008, Bookshare.org
will be self-supporting from revenues.
Raising Money
For the first five years of Arkenstone, we didn’t raise any money from outside par-
ties, nor did we need to. We made one try in the mid-1990s to raise money for new
projects from the major American foundations, and got nowhere. We simply
looked too much like a business for the comfort level of foundations back then.
What support we did get was mainly in-kind. We found it pretty straightforward
to ask our buddies at Hewlett Packard, IBM or at Intel for donations in the form
of technology: scanners, voice software or CPU chips for PCs. But money was far
tougher to find from corporations. Only IBM gave us any significant amount of
cash to help with our product push for people with dyslexia, and to translate our
products into Spanish and Portuguese, and this still represented less than 1% of
our budget.
It took us a while to become able to raise money. Luckily, we had had our $5
million of conversion funding from the sale of Arkenstone to tide us over for a
couple of years while we learned how to raise funds. It was easier to raise money
from foundations and donors to expand projects than to fund their early stages.
For example, the initial funding to create Martus was 75% from Benetech, and
25% from the Open Society Institute, who really saw the value of this kind of tool.
Bookshare.org was funded initially only by us.
Two major high tech funders then committed to supporting us. The Skoll
Foundation, created by the first president of eBay, Jeff Skoll, decided to start invest-
ing in Benetech as a venture capitalist would. They provided general support
grants to fund our vision. Each year they invested more until we were invited to
present a three-year business plan. Skoll then made a three-year commitment to
us. At roughly the same time, Pierre Omidyar, the founder of eBay, also made an
investment in our three-year plan through the Omidyar Network, his combination
for-profit/nonprofit social investing group. Together, these two tech leaders
became our biggest funders. And, unlike typical foundation grants, they made
investments in our business plan, and accepted our business plan objectives as the
tracking metrics for investment results. They were structured as general support
grants, but it felt more like a venture investment to me.
We also started to make great progress with some of the major foundations in
the United States. We and they had both changed since the mid-1990s. We had
learned more about how nonprofits and foundations worked. During this time,
foundations also became much more tech-savvy and comfortable making technol-
ogy grants. Our business-like approach was well suited to program officers at
foundations, as long as we could link what we did to the foundation’s grant-mak-
ing objectives.
Benetech Today
Benetech has five major projects going at the time of this writing. Bookshare.org
and the two human rights projects are fully operational and international in scope.
We have roughly 30 employees and consultants, and hundreds of volunteers, and
are we are growing rapidly. We have two new projects being tested by prospective
users with launches planned in 2008, Miradi and Route 66 Literacy.
Miradi is a tool for managing environmental projects. The environmental
movement came to Benetech after hearing about our work in human rights and
asked if we could also write software for field people who manage biodiversity
projects for groups such as The Nature Conservancy and the World Wildlife Fund.
Miradi has a step-by-step interview process (the wizard approach used famously
by the TurboTax software for preparing tax returns) that guides an environmental
conservation team through the steps they need to plan, manage and report on their
field project. The Miradi software is now in beta test, the last versions before the
officially complete first version. Instead of the 20 beta testers we expected, we now
have over 200 beta testers in 40 countries.
Route 66 Literacy is a web-based literacy curriculum designed for teenagers
and adults with developmental disabilities, such as Down Syndrome or autism.
Created by Professor Karen Erickson of the University of North Carolina, Chapel
Hill, it provides a literate but untrained person with the information they need to
be a good teacher of reading. Benetech is providing the technology development
and social enterprise structures to bring Route 66 to a larger population.
CONCLUSION
Benetech’s main achievement is proving the model of a technology-based social
enterprise. By replicating the model successfully with different projects and in dif-
ferent fields, we’ve shown that it is possible to adapt the high-tech business model
to primarily social endeavors. We’ve also shown the need to take major risks when
creating new technology, and have been able to fail on occasional projects without
losing our support.
Benetech is not the only technology enterprise in existence. We share the lead-
ership of this new movement with a handful of other innovative organizations,
such as Institute for One World Health, Project Impact, Cambia and
Compumentor. Together, we have demonstrated the leverage of technology to
make an impact. Just as Bill Gates can make many copies of a software package
cheaply and distribute it around the world, so can technology social enterprises
deliver their innovations globally at low cost.
The social sector lags the for-profit sector in the use of technology by two to
twenty years. As the world globalizes, so should technology applications for socie-
ty organizations. Hundreds, if not thousands, of great technology applications are
sitting on shelves because they are insufficiently profitable to shareholders. We
need to recapture these opportunities and ensure that technology fully serves all of
humanity.
1. http://www.r2d2.uwm.edu/atoms/archive/technicalreports/tr-discontinuance.htm
Nearly four billion people live on daily incomes lower than the price of a latté at
Starbucks. Most of them make dramatically less than that—and from that income,
they must acquire their food, their medicine, their shelter and clothing, their edu-
cation, and their recreation, and they must build their future and their dreams.
Their lives, and the quality of their lives, hinge on biological innovation.
Biological innovation is the ability to harness living systems for our social,
environmental and economic well-being. It is the oldest and most fundamental
form of human innovation, involving as it does the getting of food, the striving for
health, the making of homes, and the building of communities. The wealth creat-
ed over the millennia through the domestication and husbandry of plants and ani-
mals has powered human society.
Of all areas of biological innovation, agriculture is the most important, affect-
ing our environment, our health, our economies, and the fabric of our societies.
The world’s poorest nations depend largely on agriculture for their economic sur-
vival as well as their food, fuel and fiber. The challenges of innovation to create and
sustain productive and environmentally sound agriculture are even more pro-
nounced in these societies. Any failure to do so has enormous implications for the
global community, over and above the social, economic, and environmental
impacts.
Richard Jefferson is the founder and CEO of CAMBIA-BiOS. He earned his Ph.D. at
the University of Colorado, Boulder. In 1989 he joined the Food and Agriculture
Organization as their first senior staff Molecular Biologist. He left the UN System in
1991 in order to establish CAMBIA as an autonomous private research and develop-
ment institute. In December 2003 he was named by Scientific American to the List of
World's 50 most influential technologists, and cited as the World Research Leader for
2003 for Economic Development. He was nominated as a finalist for Wired
Magazine's Rave Awards for Scientist of the Year for 2005, and received the American
Society of Plant Biologists (ASPB) "Leadership in Science Public Service Award" in
July 2005.
This case narrative originally appeared in volume 1, number 4, of Innovations.
The Schwab Foundation for Social Entrepreneurship has recognized Richard
Jefferson as an Outstanding Social Entrepreneur.
For thousands of years biological innovation has been informed and guided by
keen observation and the accumulation and sharing of generations of empirical
knowledge. Farmers selected better crop varieties and livestock breeds, and devel-
oped management strategies to maximize their performance. Seeds were shared as
a practical matter of survival and each improvement formed the basis for further
innovation. Because seeds of most crop plants breed true, the ease of sharing, and
the barriers to doing so were min-
imal. As with digital information,
it is hard not to share, and hard to
Extraordinary efficiencies impose limits on sharing, so
occur when the tools of norms evolve to maximize value
from this inevitability.
innovation are shared, are But the post-Enlightenment
dynamically enhanced, have explosion of possibility that began
when the unprecedented power of
increased levels of confidence science became focused on food,
(legal and otherwise) agriculture, health, medicine and
environment seemed to dwarf all
associated with their use, and previous attainments. And indeed
in the past hundred years, with the
are low or no-cost. advent of genetics, the pace has
been gathering; the last thirty
years has seen an unprecedented
dynamism in life sciences that is
being hailed as a “biotechnology revolution.” But in this revolution, biotechnology
is rarely being applied to the critical issues of alleviating poverty, eliminating
hunger, stewarding natural resources, and preventing or curing the diseases of the
disadvantaged. The margins are small, the markets are modest, and the challenges
are great. Are the paradigms and practices that have emerged to harness science for
society sufficient to engage, and even solve, these seemingly intractable problems?
Today control over agricultural biotechnology is effectively limited to a few
multinational corporations who integrate seeds, agrichemicals, and biotechnology.
This disturbing consolidation of power is matched with a trend toward “me-too,”
big-ticket “innovations” of remarkable dullness. How many herbicide-tolerant big
acreage crops are enough? Similar trends are surfacing among the large pharma-
ceutical companies, collectively known as “big-pharma”: how many blockbuster
lifestyle drugs does society need?
Within the value system they respect, and according to their own success met-
rics of profitability, big agriculture and big pharma are not abject failures, but they
surely are not enough.
To address the myriad challenges of agriculture, environment and health that
are local in nature and modest in market or profit margins will require vigorous,
competitive, local-scale small to medium enterprises creating a business and inno-
vation ecology. It will also require a biological innovation culture where the costs
of innovation are low, and the power and relevance of technology are high. It will
require leveraging the contributions of diverse people and institutions to create
tools that better engage science into an integrated and economically sustainable
social agenda.
The mission of CAMBIA, of which I am the founder, is to advance this set of
required capabilities so that biological innovation can address the human chal-
lenges of the 21st century; the BiOS (Biological Open Source) Initiative is
CAMBIA’s mechanism for achieving its mission.
The term “open source” describes a paradigm for software development asso-
ciated with a set of innovation practices. The concept evolved out of the “free soft-
ware” movement, and is often merged into the expression “free and open source
software.” (See text box.) Several features together qualify a project as “open
source.”1 These include full disclosure of enabling information including docu-
mented source code and the use of legal instruments such as copyright licenses to
confer both permissive rights and responsibilities; they bind contributions into a
commons that is accessible to all who agree to share alike. Typically, certain prac-
tices and cultural norms are associated with distributive innovation, although this
is by no means required; some very successful free and open source software pro-
jects have only a few serious contributors, while others have thousands.
Extraordinary efficiencies occur when the tools of innovation are shared, are
dynamically enhanced, have increased levels of confidence (legal and otherwise)
associated with their use, and are low or no-cost. Rent extraction from the process
of innovation is reduced, transactions costs are minimized and developers focus
their resources on creating revenue by providing products and services and enlarg-
ing markets.
This concept is fully generalizable—although clearly the specifics are not—and
a large part of CAMBIA’s BiOS initiative explores and extends the software
metaphor. BiOS strives to create new norms and practices for dynamically design-
ing and creating the tools of biological innovation, with binding covenants to pro-
tect and preserve their usefulness, while allowing diverse business models for
wealth creation, using these tools.
In the first part of this paper I discuss the simultaneous burst of knowledge in
molecular biology and the precipitous decline of a commons of tools, using exam-
ples from plant biotechnology. I develop a practical model of innovation, high-
lighting how biological innovation is stymied or deflected to high margin applica-
tions if tools are not freely available, continuously improving and embodying the
permission to deliver work product into markets. I explore parallels, divergences
and resonance with open source paradigms in software engineering. The rest of the
paper focuses on CAMBIA BiOS Initiative activities: the BiOS Framework, the
PatentLens, and the BioForge, and the creation of a “commons of capability”
through which new actors, including farmers and small-to-medium enterprise,
can use science to create viable innovations relevant to their needs.
Years later, I thought, why not use the same concept to understand how cells in
animals and plants work? Why not have the organisms talk to us about their envi-
ronment, through their genes? I set out to develop a parallel system, using a differ-
ent enzyme and gene that could function in these new organisms. The one I chose
was prosaically called GUS.
As I worked, I became increasingly
aware that the availability of tools, and
their capabilities, completely dictated I became increasingly
the science that was done, and who was
doing it. As an undergraduate at the
aware that the availability
University of California and the of tools, and their
University of Edinburgh, I worked in
some of the key laboratories responsi- capabilities, completely
ble for inventing recombinant DNA dictated the science that
methodology. I watched, time and
again, how an entire field of scientific was done, and who was
endeavor would almost instantly doing it.
change course when a new technique—
tool—was provided.
When I first developed the GUS
technology, the scientific community I
was originally working within—which studied animal embryo development—was
not very interested; the tool just wasn’t needed much. My first paper on this topic
was received with an ill-stifled yawn. But I moved my interests to plants and agri-
culture, during the heady dawn of plant molecular genetics.
Efforts to transfer beneficial genes into key crops such as cotton, soybean,
maize, and rice were running into a brick wall. There was no way to visualize suc-
cess, nor to measure and improve on first steps. The GUS reporter system made
visualizing genes and their action in plants very easy and efficient—it was proving
to be a very powerful tool at the right time.
In 1985 I arrived for my postdoctoral research at the Plant Breeding Institute
(PBI) in Cambridge, England, a vigorous international group of colleagues who
were at the cutting edge of technology development and exploration in molecular
plant sciences. The Plant Breeding Institute was also one of the few sites in the
world that combined the patient and disciplined craft of successful agricultural
innovation, such as plant breeding and agronomy, with the impatient and fer-
menting world of molecular biology. As well, the Plant Breeding Institute was still
at that time an entity focused on the public good, a non-profit institute that earned
substantial income for the U.K. government through royalties on its own crop
varieties.
At Plant Breeding Institute, my colleagues3 and I designed and conducted the
first field test of a transgenic food crop. It was also the first BioSentinel experiment:
a gene we wished to study was fused to the GUS gene, to conduct a field trial ask-
ing a fundamental question about how genes act under field conditions. We used
public money, in the public sector, to ask a fundamental question for the public.
The field was planted on June 1, 1987—completely by chance one day before
Monsanto’s first field trial. The lessons of the field trial were fascinating. We found
that gene activity in a field is extraordinarily variable, and our preconceived labo-
ratory-based notions of how genes worked would turn out to be very inadequate
when dealing with field populations. Our technology, though cutting-edge, was
not up to the questions that real-world agriculture presents.
The Plant Breeding Institute was an international institute, with students and
scientists from all over the world. The institute had a reputation for brilliant wheat
breeding and genetics, so most of the countries whose agriculture depended on
cereal production would send their scientists to us for training. Many of the stu-
dents and postdoctoral fellows in the Molecular Genetics department came from
India, Pakistan, Turkey, the Middle East, China, Africa, Latin America, and Eastern
Europe. Most of them indicated that this period in Cambridge was their one shot
at career establishment. If they published a paper or two in a good journal, they
had a reasonable chance of employment back home. And some of them confessed
that they likely would not be able to use the new biotechnologies to effect any
change in their home agriculture or economy. Not only did they lack the finances
and infrastructure to make use of these high-tech tools, but the tools were better
for science than for problem solving.
These people were exemplary of perhaps the most crucial but neglected
resource for social advancement through science: dedicated and capable people. I
observed, however, that instead of using their own experience to inform the sci-
ence that was being done and the technologies being developed, their own world-
views and self-images were rapidly aligning to the incentive and reward system of
the prevailing and fashionable science trends. And their energy to change the
options in their home countries was dissipating.
By early 1987, after intensive experimentation in-house, we had assembled
hundreds of copies of a GUS kit of dozens of DNA molecules and a comprehen-
sive “how-to” manual. I rewrote the big “GUS Manual” and sent it to a mass-mailed
newsletter called Plant Molecular Biology Reporter, which was distributed free to
thousands of scientists rather than initially publishing a peer-reviewed scientific
paper, which I eventually did.4 The grapevine is also a powerful communications
tool in science; soon many people were hearing about this new technology that
would let them see the cells and tissues where their gene was functioning. It would
also allow let them optimize gene delivery experiments; this was an urgent priori-
ty for both industry and academia. At that time no important commercial crop
had been genetically engineered, so requests started flooding in for the GUS sys-
tem. And I started sending out hundreds, even thousands of samples, and the
User’s Manual, all with no licenses, to scientists in dozens of countries, in both the
private and public sectors. I only included a letter saying that while I had filed for
a patent on the system, I wanted everyone to use it, and royalties—if any resulted
—would go back to creating the next generation of technology.
I sent the kit to scientists at Agracetus in Wisconsin who were working, with
little success, on transferring genes to soybeans. They had no idea if the genes they
were introducing with their new process were actually making it into the right
cells. One of those scientists, Paul Christou, told me of their thrill when they were
able to immediately visualize
gene transfer with the blue
color of the GUS test, and soon
succeeded at introducing genes Within a year after we began
into soybeans for the first time. widely distributing the GUS
And they could only do it with
GUS, which also had no appar- technology, hundreds of new
ent restrictions. They were avenues of plant science were
delighted, of course, as was
Monsanto, for whom they emerging. Within two years,
5
worked.
That work with GUS
breakthroughs in maize,
turned out to be the single soybean, cotton, and many
biggest money maker in plant
biotechnology, possibly ever in
other crops occurred.
agriculture. Monsanto devel-
oped its RoundUp ReadyTM soy-
bean line, which it ultimately
used to breed most of the transgenic soybean plants now covering the world, using
GUS to select plants.
Within a year after we began widely distributing the GUS technology, hun-
dreds of new avenues of plant science were emerging. Within two years, break-
throughs in maize, soybean, cotton, and many other crops occurred. New tech-
nologies were invented that used the tool in its very creation and optimization,
such as particle bombardment (the tool that Agracetus had been exploring) and
critical improvements were made to core technologies such as gene transfer by
Agrobacterium. GUS demonstrated that one powerful new tool, widely distributed,
could rapidly change an entire field.
The idea of intentionally changing the directions of inquiry and the demo-
graphics and economics of problem-solving by designing and providing new tools
would shape the next thirty years of my professional life. With increasing exposure
to the realities of practical agriculture, intellectual property, policy and business,
my definition of “tool” matured. It came to include not just the technologies need-
ed for scientific investigation, but also the critical normative, economic, policy,
legal and business instruments to convert investigation into socially and econom-
ically sound innovations. A business model really can be a tool.
But that world was collapsing. The distinction between discovery and inven-
tion was being blurred as patents were filed on each component; that process
entirely altered the dynamic of translation into true innovation: delivering the
products of science and technology to the marketplace. It was now possible to con-
trol the tools and platform discov-
eries themselves, not just the prod-
ucts that they created.
Perhaps the greatest crisis In the early 1980s with the passing
that has emerged from this of the Bayh-Dole Act, universities
in the United States were actively
corporate control of encouraged to patent their work
problem-solving in products. The Act’s fundamental
policy goal was to see publicly-
agriculture is that the public funded science and technology
now seems to have very little better used by society, by encour-
aging industry to adopt it. The
confidence in the use of any trend of public agencies using the
patent system exploded interna-
science in agriculture. tionally into a filing frenzy. No one
foresaw then that the fragmenta-
tion of the platforms and tools
would make it so complex, so
expensive and so intractable to assemble the “freedom to operate and freedom to
innovate.” Nor did we see that the resulting innovations themselves would be so
few, so stodgy, and so slow to reach the marketplace.
At almost the same time, the advent of recombinant DNA and the ability to
determine DNA and protein sequences massively increased scientists’ ability to
explore, understand, and manipulate living systems, or at least living organisms. So
every new life sciences discovery could be, and often was, dressed up as an inven-
tion and subject to patent; as the patent claims were granted, they cast a huge net
over the possible options. Public sector coalitions would frequently compete with
private big-science, and who usually won the plum of patent monopoly? The pri-
vatized efforts. Was this right, or necessary?
I began my own foray into patents and their importance when I arrived in
Cambridge in 1986. I discovered close relationships between some large companies
and the public-sector institute where I was based, shaped by personal histories and
friendships. I didn’t view this as a bad thing. I shared all my ideas and technologies
with them from the outset. In fact, I shared with pretty much anyone who was
interested, thinking that—in economic terms—my ideas were non-rival; sharing
didn’t cost me the ability to use them myself. How wrong I would later prove to
be.9 And how times were changing.
One company, ICI,10 was keen to use GUS in its commercial development pro-
grams; like many companies it was mostly interested in having clear rights to do
so. ICI suggested that I patent my technology so it could be sure it would have
access to GUS in the future. I didn’t understand the logic at the time, but I took the
first steps and filed a patent in the United Kingdom and the United States, with a
filing date in 1986. The University of Colorado, where the first stages of the work
had been done, had waived its interest in patenting it.
Thus began a long and painful learning process of partnerships with powerful
attorneys in which I watched patent-craft by The Masters. It took almost seven
years for my first patent to issue in the USA, and nine years for the one with most
of the valuable claims. Even when it was issued, complex agendas and issues11 kept
me from licensing the patents or even having a clear title for quite some time. This
delay wrought havoc with my ambitions to use patents to create and fund CAM-
BIA, and when revenue did come in, it was in sporadic bursts, and barely in time
to make payroll.
As a technology, GUS has had a surprisingly long shelf-life, and is unusual in
being a largely stand-alone technology. If one has the “right” to put a gene into a
plant, GUS remained a useful and legally usable tool to monitor that gene and its
activity. But it turned out that even that right, the legal permission to transfer a
gene to a plant, proved to be a critical and contentious issue because patents are
opaque and licensing rights even more so, and because advances in the life sciences
are so interdependent.
the true stranglehold rests where much less public sector effort is expended: in the
process of converting invention and discovery into innovation, by building and
using wheels.
But we can change this landscape, if we provide one or more of the spokes to
all the wheel-builders and users with covenants of behavior, rather than financial
consideration (outlined later as BiOS licenses). If a user can access a spoke only by
promising to share spokes, or improvements, then the whole logic can change.
This is where we find the leverage: change the logic of copyright licenses in
software to allow free and open source software to exist, and do the same for patent
licenses or Materials Transfer Agreements (MTAs) in BiOS. Then we can regain a
full complement of spokes, and see the “wheels” of real innovation turn rapidly
and deploy on many roads, creating wealth through their use.
accessible “protected commons” of patents in a pool available for any open source
development. As the world’s largest patent holder, IBM could be viewed as a “rights
maximalist;” over 500 of its key software patents have been made available to all—
including competitors—who choose to use them under open source rules. Within
days, Sun Microsystems followed suit with another 1600 patents, and a myriad of
other companies are doing the same. The snowball effect continues, as companies
realize that their sector makes progress when the standards and the toolkits are
clear, open, of high quality and consistently available.
Clearly, true wealth creation will come not through extracting rent from a tool,
but through using a continuously improving toolkit, with continuously decreasing
costs of innovation and a continuously expanding group of tool users. Diverse and
prosperous agriculture, robust public health and sustainable natural resource
management are the publicly valuable goals we must keep in clear sight. The tools
associated with their improvements must be plentiful, powerful and affordable.
As the ICT sector realized, we also need an open source movement in biologi-
cal innovation that can empower public and private sector innovators with the
tools, platforms and paradigms to allow rapid and efficient life-sciences innova-
tions for neglected priorities and new opportunities.
problem solving; we are learning many lessons from the software world, and will
continue to. But it would be a mistake to push the comparison too far. BiOS con-
cepts have emerged from twenty years within the life sciences and human develop-
ment culture, to address the needs and challenges of biological innovation.
and over for different customers, and charging full fees again to update them
periodically. Increasingly we wish to do something no fee-requiring patent data
provider will ever do: turn the landscapes into living repositories of constantly
updated information, so no more updates will ever be required.
The goal is to use the harmonized datasets to create a facility where distrib-
uted and diverse users can generate, link, and dynamically annotate patent
landscape analyses through web interfaces. The landscapes will ultimately
become maps and decision support tools so users can distinguish greenfields
from minefields in the long path from discovery to practical delivery of an
innovation.
We have created a substantial number of such landscapes, in an early,
hypertext-linked but basically flat structure. But we aim to enable the prepara-
tion of many more, by many people, by leveraging informatics to create ready
frameworks and linkages between world patent literature and such resources as
PubMed Central, and Google Scholar whose relevance engines can enrich the
process. Ultimately we see the navigation of technology landscapes as being a
critical feature in research and development decision making, but people will
only use them when their costs, in both time and money, are negligible and the
relevance and utility of the guided decisions are clear.
The idea of using patent licenses not to extract a financial return from a user
of a technology, but rather to impose a covenant of behavior, is the single feature
of BiOS that is most resonant with Free and Open Source Software. We13 worked
with small companies, university offices of technology transfer, attorneys and large
same challenges also render patent-based BiOS licensing and MTAs even more
necessary.
Discoveries are routinely patented; while they are only part of the complex web
of capabilities that must be aggregated to create wealth, owners can game them
for short-term financial gain at the expense of sectoral progress.
Success with a BioForge project—or any cooperative project with long
timelines and complex feedback loops—requires aligning incentives and
rewards. The most prominent metric for academic advance is reputation, but
the tools for recognizing and enhancing reputation are still very primitive,
including publication in high-impact peer-reviewed journals and serving on
committees and review panels to cement relationships.
BioForge lacks any mechanism to demonstrate its contributors’ influence
and success to the community at large, or to those entities and individuals that
have power over professional advancement. It takes an exceptional scientist to
work toward improving a technology if she or he has no personal stake in its
success.
The long timelines of agricultural and medical research and product devel-
opment all but forbid direct feedback when an innovation enters the market-
place. This is a key justification for vertically integrated companies: to ensure
that managerial oversight creates these links. If we wish to see alternative, dis-
tributive innovation in sectors with such challenges, we must create intermedi-
ate, interconnected and valuable feedback that enhances contributors’ reputa-
tions, as well as new incentive pulls to participate.
The first generation of BioForge taught us something fairly obvious: that the
cultures of software engineering and the life sciences overlap very little. Software
developers live online. Their tool—the computer - is their window to the Internet.
Their product, software code, can be tested almost instantly and can be evaluated,
rejected or accepted almost as quickly. The engineer can build on tested code, and
be fairly confident of a secure base. In the life sciences, experiments can take
months or years; validation, scaling and quality assurance take even longer. And
the process can be so expensive or so specific to circumstances that it may never be
replicated by another entity.
We are cautiously optimistic that as we introduce new, recognized and respect-
ed “reputational” tools, if we nurture high profile and energetic champions for par-
ticular projects, and if we create new incentive and reward systems, we will be able
to move the BioForge from a field of dreams into a productive and focused mech-
anism for distributive innovation.
imposed “solution.” It would not have a linear impact, nor would it merely
improve the cost effectiveness of conventional paradigms.
To engage both the scientific and the business community, such a coordi-
nated effort would offer an intellectually exciting proving ground for new col-
laborative approaches and new science and must require interdisciplinary
skills. The imagination and creative energy of science would be harnessed, but
much of science is intensely self-absorbed. An interesting problem will attract
much more attention than a mundane one.
The platform activities would afford opportunities for “spin off ” value for
other initiatives and activities, and would have impacts beyond its target goals.
A broad constituency must see some merit in various components of the proj-
ect—so that diverse, even divergent interests would build coalitions.
The project would also have a credible promise, or proof of principle.22 It
would not be too risky—or too safe. While it may be somewhat encumbered
by intellectual property, it would not yet be completely constrained. If the tar-
get has a suite of challenging IP thickets, that would be a platform for new
strategies—of decision support, collaboration and invention—to emerge,
allowing us to hone these capabilities. It would be in a field with few
entrenched interests, or those interests must be diffuse or distracted. If major
economic interests push back too early, they could slow or stall the effort.
Finally—and critically—it would also be in an arena where civil society,
industry and academia can engage constructively towards a détente, and where
they can explore and validate new models of social enterprise and business, as
well as new economic and innovation strategies.
research, and new normative and licensing tools? What if we used it to build a true
public commons of technology—or rather “rebuild” a public commons of capabil-
ity. We sought not a silver bullet, but rather a platform to test and explore our
hypothesis that in alternate universes of innovation, tools and foundational dis-
coveries could be constantly improving common goods, and that prosperous
industries and business could be built on them.
The Strategy
My logic, and that of most biologists trained in evolution, is that if something hap-
pens once in life, it probably happens many times—maybe ubiquitously. We think
of a “one-off ” because we can rarely see other instances. So I began looking for
hints in the literature that other bacterial species could transfer genes to plants,
either natively or with a bit of convincing. And I found hints aplenty. So we set
out—again with support from the Rockefeller Foundation—to find or generate
the capacity for benign plant-associated bacteria to conduct gene transfer, and thus
to develop a system that would be competent to transfer genes to plants, which was
not infringing any Agrobacterium patents. If we could do this, the toolkit would
clearly fall outside all the patents over AMGT, rendering hundreds, even thousands
of patents irrelevant as blocking tools, but useful as “background science and tech-
nology.”
We further speculated that we would be able to develop a system that was not
only free and clear of the onerous Agrobacterium thicket, but would ultimately be
superior to Agrobacterium as a technology. Agrobacterium is a plant pathogen,
The R&D
The process turned out to be more straightforward than most anyone expected,
and we published our results, which described a new system called “Transbacter,”
in Nature18 on February 10, 2005. After nearly two years of hard work by a skilled
laboratory staff, we described in that paper how we had induced three different
genera of benign plant bacteria to transfer genes to three different genera of plants.
These plants included the world’s most important crop, rice, over which Japan
Tobacco held dominant rights, and broadleaf plants, over which Monsanto held
dominant rights.
The capability of Agrobacterium to transfer genes to plants is virtually identi-
cal at a molecular level to the ubiquitous system by which virtually all bacteria
exchange genetic material, and even by which proteins and other molecules are
secreted. This similarity allowed us to excise and move this capability on a fairly
well-defined DNA construct into the benign symbionts. We were able to test the
system with the most sensitive tools in the sector: the open-sourced GUSPlus
reporter system.
The paper received exceptional coverage in the press, ranging from the New
York Times and Science to Nature Biotechnology and the Economist, but not just for
its scientific contributions.
This platform will be built using technologies developed under BiOS license,
guided by sophisticated patent informatics to ensure permissive use, and will pio-
neer new collaborative research methods that enshrine and perpetuate permissive
use by all parties. The platform need not create GMO foods, but will create new
communities of informed decision makers who are empowered to evaluate and
improve their own ecologies and economies.
CONCLUSION
At the start of the twenty-first century, science is at a critical juncture. Four cen-
turies of inquiry, discovery, and invention have created a base of knowledge that
has the potential to provide people everywhere, in all circumstances, with nourish-
ment, improved health, and longer life. But the institutional mechanisms that
ostensibly exist to encourage the application of science to practical problems are
today hindering that very process. The norms that have evolved around gate-keep-
ing have created new clergy, new impediments and new inefficiencies. Without a
systemic change, science’s promise will not be available for those who most need
it, and the promise of a truly diverse, robust and fair innovation culture may elude
us.
Patents are at the heart of the system of institutions that convert basic scientif-
ic knowledge into practical applications. The modern patent system was intended
to advance the public good by balancing the disclosure of ideas and the transpar-
ent definition of limited property rights. Today, it has degenerated into an instru-
ment that is often misused to obstruct the public good through enclosure of ideas
and obscure assertion of property rights that have no concomitant social benefit.
To the shared dismay of both scientists and thoughtful citizens, patent systems and
the myriad gaming practices they have spawned today are impeding innovation as
a social enterprise, and continuing to deprive most of the world’s population of
such fundamentals as adequate nutrition, access to health care services, and clean
water. This does not have to be. It is up to us to reclaim the beauty of science as a
democratized tool for social advancement and wealth creation. It is up to us to
write the terms of the compact. It is up to us to move beyond rhetoric and into
constructive engagement in reforming our innovation systems for economic
robustness and social justice.
I had several meetings with Imhof and others at Syngenta; I attempted to make
the case that using GUS to garner such a powerful and oppressive patent position
was unjust and inappropriate and would ultimately be a pyrrhic victory for the
sector. The discussions went nowhere.
So we made use of one of the few remedies afforded in the patent system to
small players: the opposition process. Once patents are granted in Europe, they can
immediately be challenged if one submits to the European Patent Office (EPO)
prior art that had not been considered. Our contention in the EPO was that much
public work, as well as my own work, including my public disclosure of the basic
idea, pre-dated the filings and would thus invalidate the novelty requirement for
the patent. We also argued that the patent was obvious in light of the pervasive use
of positive selection in every other biological system for many years. We also
asserted that the patent did not sufficiently enable one to practice the invention,
and in particular, did not merit the breadth of claims granted.
The opposition process is widely touted as much more affordable than litiga-
tion. No doubt this is true. Instead of paying several million dollars to lawyers so
we could be screwed by a multinational corporation in front of a judge, we only
had to pay a hundred thousand or so for the same privilege, but in front of a panel
of patent professionals. Of course reconsiderations of patent validity are conduct-
ed by the very same entity—the administrative machine of the patent office - that
made the initial patent grant. So even in the face of what we felt to be compelling
prior art, and convincing case law, the deck was stacked in favor of the status quo.
Watching the process, and the craft and gaming skills involved, was an eye-
opener for me. Until one has actually endured the multi-year posturing, arguing,
heartache and expense, there can be no clear way to convey the dysfunction of the
system, or its debilitating effect on inventors. We achieved only modest inroads in
restricting the breadth of their claims. But we did consume years of time and huge
amounts of money, in a failed bid to restore for public use a key application of a
technology that I had developed and had inadvertently let a multinational pull into
its private fiefdom. The opposition process is not available in the United States, so
the opportunity to lose extravagant sums of money there was denied to us.
What did Syngenta do with this technology? With the example they claimed
using GUS, nothing. They never made a single product using that tool, nor did
they develop it further. But they used the broad claims, granted by both the
European and U.S. patent offices, to ensure that no other player—large or small—
attempted positive selection without becoming beholden to them. Later, from
DANISCO, they acquired other examples of positive selection protocols which
worked pretty well and were protected under the umbrella of the broad claims,
they made them “available” under a research license to unsuspecting scientists in
the public sector. This “research license” strategy is one of the most pernicious co-
opting approaches used by large private-sector companies. Once a tool is used
under such a license, the only way to then release a product is through after-the-
fact negotiations for a “commercial license.” Several friends have gone through this
process and reported a bare-knuckled strategy that gives the licensee almost no
share in the benefit of the product they developed. Few takers, of course.
What are the lessons. Don’t share? This is not a lesson I cleave to, nor a recipe
for social progress. Could it have happened otherwise? Absolutely. This example
was a case study of how “open source” licenses could be crafted and protect the
public commons, yet allow the private sector to build prosperous businesses using
that commons of technology. Perhaps I should have only sent the GUS gene and
disclosed the information to those who agreed to terms by which they would share
improvements that specifically used GUS; then the entire broad positive selection
concept would likely have stayed available to all entities—public and private, large
and small—that wished to explore its use. As would the many modifications on
which others had filed patents. Just imagine: what would happen if the public sec-
tor technology transfer professionals had access to such a leverage tool to further
the power of the commons toolkit and advance their mission?
The case narrative by Richard Jefferson in this issue of Innovations shows how the
rate and direction of progress in biology is constrained by available tools; a novel
tool can set the field on a new and more productive course, but only if creative sci-
entists are free to use it. The history of ¼-glucuronidase (GUS) reporter genes illus-
trates the great impact a technology can have when it is novel, useful, and globally
available on reasonable terms. Now Jefferson’s energy is directed at restoring
biotechnologists’ global freedom to innovate, by “inventing around” essential, but
proprietarily owned, research tools, and trying to ensure that the new alternatives
remain freely available for use and improvement.
A key part of his program is the development of BiOS, an institutional inno-
vation that applies aspects of the open source software model to biotechnology.
Although the jury is still out on the effectiveness and sustainability of BiOS,
Jefferson’s detailed account provides a good foundation for initial analysis. Perhaps
more important than his discussion of the BiOS model itself, however, is Jefferson’s
articulation of the intellectual property problems faced by innovators in biotech-
nology who want to see their efforts make a difference to end-users globally. What
he has to say demands the attention of the many lawyers and economists who see
no problems with intellectual property protection in biotechnology.
Open source is currently one among several approaches designed to encourage
broad based participation in research in biotechnology in the face of the restric-
tions imposed by intellectual property rights on key enabling technologies.1 Open
source in biology is a work in progress, highly experimental and controversial. This
essay seeks to reach beyond the rhetoric of openness and transparency, to consid-
er some of the challenges that confront the BiOS project, and some of the oppor-
tunities that might be created in biotechnology in general, and agricultural
biotechnology in particular, by open source innovation.
A DIFFERENT PATH
The GUS reporter gene and subsequent innovations, (and especially Jefferson’s
publication with almost 4,000 citations) are achievements for which many a pro-
fessor would contemplate homicide. This narrative has a familiar ring to those who
like to read the lives of the academ-
ic super-heroes. Outstanding stu-
While most lawyers and dent meets creative mentors on the
cutting edge, encounters the right
economists were still research problem in the wrong field,
and ports the solution to the right
debating whether access to application just when it is needed.
technology and freedom-to- The accomplishment is widely cele-
brated and the just patent reward is
operate problems even claimed.
existed, Jefferson designed But at this point Jefferson
begins to steer his career away from
CAMBIA and, in turn, BiOS the conventional, exhibiting reckless
to tackle those problems. disregard of academic disciplinary
boundaries and fiscal prudence.
Many of those GUS citations, some
might have noticed, were generated
by his own efforts to disseminate the reporter gene technology far and wide in use-
ful kits which enabled disenfranchised scientists in obscure corners of the world to
do more effective plant breeding. Eschewing the single-minded pursuit of further
publications and attainment of tenure, Jefferson turned to champion an interna-
tional community of scientists, entrepreneurs, and farmers and their capacity to
embrace the emerging scientific opportunities offered by biotechnology. Against
the backdrop of such auspicious scientific potential, the constraints imposed by
lack of resources and encroaching patent claims caught his attention. Had he fol-
lowed Adam Smith’s recognition of the key role of specialization in innovation and
the social merits of selfish pursuing profit maximization, Richard Jefferson’s career
would have taken a very different, and less interesting, path.
Because he has played on both sides of the patent game in a rapidly evolving
commercial field, he has had the opportunity to observe how patents can restrict,
or even kill, promising technologies, and stifle the formation of startup firms that
generate the flow of innovations to the end users. While most lawyers and econo-
mists were still debating whether access to technology and freedom-to-operate
problems even existed, Jefferson designed CAMBIA and, in turn, BiOS to tackle
those problems. His experience has earned him notable credibility in this debate.
associated expenses.
In patents, as in copyright, the utility of the protection gained from intellectu-
al property rights depends on the ability to enforce. All the expenditures and effort
involved in patent prosecution are in vain unless the OS commons has the credi-
ble financial capacity to sue infringers and finance the necessary litigation through
to a decision, if necessary. In patents this capacity does not come cheap; each law-
suit in the United States costs millions of dollars. It is not clear whether the issue
of enforcement is less serious in OS software, which is itself a pioneering commons
institution, and, as such, still a work in progress.
One practical distinction between software and plant biotechnology in this
regard is that infringers may have less incentive to fight to the end if they can, at
low cost to themselves, cease infringing by substituting lines of new code in a rel-
atively short time period. In plant biotechnology, however, an accused infringer is
likely to have less attractive alternatives to legal warfare; switching to a non-
infringing technology may forfeit an investment of years of development, back-
crossing and regulatory testing because patented technology is often locked into
the genome of a novel plant variety.
In light of these constraints, BiOS, for effective management to achieve unfet-
tered access to crucial technologies, needs to be able to make centralized decisions
about patenting and publishing, and to have the financial capacity to enforce its
rights. Centralized decisions are not foreign to the traditional open source model;
despite claims of democratic innovation by OS protagonists, the system most often
depends on a hierarchy of reviewers ensuring quality control and assigning cred-
it.7 But even with this hierarchy, the OS quality control process lends itself to, and
indeed finds strength in, its openness and immediacy. To our knowledge, BiOS and
other OS biology initiatives have not addressed the issues of confidentiality, delays
and capital requirements associated with extension of the OS model to patentable
biotechnologies.
try market in exchange for the company’s promise to manufacture and deliver the
product into developing country markets at a reasonable price. This logic is not
new, of course. Product development public private partnerships (PDP’s), among
others, have demonstrated how to leverage intellectual property rights, segmenting
the market in their licensing agreements in order to achieve the ultimate goals of
delivering biomedical innovations to poor and underserved populations where
there are very limited commercial markets. It is in cases like these that open source
licenses may hinder the product’s commercialization by precluding the engage-
ment of private capital. An understanding of this dynamic is in part what drove the
BiOS model to focus on enabling technologies, preserving the potential for patent
rights on application-level technologies.
The polio vaccine provides a historical example that seems to contradict the
cautions above. It is often cited as a case where the choice not to patent resulted in
a major public health success. Jonas Salk famously stated: “Who owns my polio
vaccine? The people! Could you patent the sun?” It’s true that Salk did not patent
his work and open access was achieved, by almost anyone’s standard, as the polio
vaccine represents one of history’s great public health success stories.
The polio vaccine was delivered through an extraordinary collaboration
between individual volunteers and a public charity, the National Foundation for
Infantile Paralysis (now known as the March of Dimes), founded by Franklin
Delano Roosevelt. Salk’s work was funded by the National Foundation. The field
trials were the biggest peace-time mobilization of volunteers in U.S. history. Nearly
two million school children, called the “Polio Pioneers,” and thousands of health-
care workers and lay people volunteered to take part in or assist with the vaccine
field trials. The results of the trials were analyzed at the University of Michigan.
Millions of Americans participated by raising funds in their communities. The
National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis even funded the manufacture of the
vaccines by subsidizing the production of nine million dollars worth of vaccines.
The story of the polio vaccine is, indeed, an inspirational illustration of a
nation mobilizing its resources to address a public health crisis. But it was devel-
oped with ample funding and without a thicket of potentially blocking patents.
Remember, too, that vaccines are currently under-supplied globally. The Salk
model has not been sustained. A major source of vaccines for tropical diseases is
the U.S. government, which funds the necessary research to protect soldiers who
might one day fight in tropical lands; any gains that accrue to locals in such coun-
tries are more or less incidental. Where there is still some doubt as to whether pri-
vate sector resources may need to be engaged, the option to use IP rights as a tool
to achieve the goals of open access may be valuable.
The larger point is that different IP management tools fit different circum-
stances. There are many instances where publishing and not patenting is the path
to ensuring open access. Yet another important strategy, widely praised as judi-
cious, is exemplified by the broad and non-exclusive licensing strategy implement-
ed for the key Cohen-Boyer patents. Effective IP management plans require flexi-
bility and knowledgeable professionals. They should be designed to support par-
in which researchers can use a full set of technologies in the public domain with
impunity, and with no need to consider BiOS license terms. There are other, non-
IP, reasons why this is not done; access to materials, biosafety issues, liability and
stewardship issues, and a weakness in scientific capacity can be more serious
impediments than foreign patents in hindering progress in plant biotechnology in
developing countries.
However, the path pioneered by BiOS could become a route to freedom to
operate for poor countries in the future. The full effects of the global spread of
patenting fostered by the TRIPS Agreement of the World Trade Organization, and
even more onerous bilateral agreements, are now coming to bear on agricultural
researchers in developing countries. As their scientific capacities develop, the full
force of patent claims might well become a serious obstacle.
Because BiOS does not currently provide a complete and viable alternative
platform, interoperability concerns are not just important, but essential.
Researchers have no alternative to using technologies licensed under the BiOS
terms in conjunction with patented technologies owned by others. Unfortunately
the BiOS license mandates encumbrances that “infect” key complementary
enabling technologies. Owners of patents on such technologies might well find
these encumbrances unacceptable.
Suppose, for instance, a scientist creates a plant transformation vector (the
research tool that enables a researcher to insert a gene into a plant’s DNA), with a
BiOS enabling technology as one of its many component technologies. Under the
terms of the license, the entire vector system must be granted back to BiOS. The
BiOS license, in its reservation of rights for the licensee to own application tech-
nologies (i.e. not enabling technologies), falls short of what is known in open
source software licensing as “viral.”11 However, the BiOS license does have a viral
quality to it that affects enabling technologies.
The terms of the BiOS license could mean that researchers become limited in
the set of tools from which they choose. In a sense, the BiOS license could, count-
er-intuitively discourage, rather than encourage collaboration. To see this effect,
imagine again the vector system referred to above where one component is a BiOS
technology. The researcher would like to use another component that happens to
be patented by a commercial firm. The commercial firm will not agree to the use
of their technology knowing that the vector system, incorporating their technolo-
gy will be available for free under the BiOS license. Therefore the researcher’s
choice of tools is effectively diminished by having chosen to use the BiOS technol-
ogy; he has relinquished the ability to use certain tools because he has brought a
technology into his lab under the terms of the BiOS license.
It is true that the BiOS license allows the licensee to refrain from granting back
improvements if they are kept as trade secrets. (Not only can the licensees benefit
from access to enabling technologies, and the improvements of others, but they
can use trade secrecy, where feasible, to avoid making their own improvements
available to other licensees.) The trade secrecy option is, however, unlikely to be a
useful concession for universities, where disclosure is an important part of the cul-
ture and materials are regularly shared among researchers in a lab (or among labs)
informally.12
In sum, creation of a transformation platform as a flagship application with
freedom to operate has been the subject of much effort and creativity, but it is still
a work in progress.
Some Perspective
At this point, it is appropriate to put some perspective on the relevance of open
source initiatives for global agriculture. To date, it is unlikely that massive numbers
have died of hunger due to the current state of agricultural intellectual property
rights. Subsidized by rich countries’ agricultural policies, the world markets have
offered basic foods at prices lower than ever recorded.
Furthermore, almost all currently useful agricultural biotechnology has been
available, without patent protection, to most developing countries, for all purpos-
es except incorporation in exports to countries with relevant patents in force. It has
not been widely adopted for basic food production, for two reasons. First, wide-
spread opposition to genetic modifica-
tion, for reasons of biosafety and pub-
At present, open source is a lic acceptance, has discouraged this
type on innovation. (For example, as
promising, but problematic, of 2006, South Africa was the only
way to preserve some country in Africa where genetically
engineered crops are grown commer-
freedom to innovate in a cially).15
world of patent thickets. Second, the less developed coun-
tries, with a handful of notable excep-
tions including China, India, Brazil
and Argentina, lack any real capacity to
exploit the new technologies, because the substantial, sustained investments in
education, research and facilities necessary to get the process under way have not
been made.
Nevertheless this is the right time to be addressing patent problems in devel-
oping countries. The long downtrend in food prices has been interrupted, a
reminder that the food yield increases behind recent declining price trends did not
come automatically, but reflect sustained, large, largely public, investments in
research. In the past year, the world has awakened from complacency about atmos-
pheric carbon, on the one hand, and reliance on imported fuels, on the other, to
support massive increases in ethanol production from crops. If these increases
continue, large yield improvements in the productivity of crops will be needed to
ensure that competition from gasoline consumers does not cause an increase in the
numbers of the world's poor and hungry.
Considerable investments have already been made into researching the genet-
ic modification of developing-country crops (for instance, biofortification, disease
and pest resistance, and drought tolerance). These projects must consider con-
straints and opportunities associated with intellectual property rights in order to
ensure the intended delivery of the products of their research into the hands of
farmers. In its short history, there is already an accumulation of anecdotal evidence
of agricultural biotechnology research projects being delayed, re-directed, or halt-
ed all together because of intellectual property rights problems (Wright and
Pardey 2006a, 2006b). A recent survey of agricultural biologists at U.S. Land Grant
Universities reveals that they, as a group unusually familiar with patenting and the
exchange of tools, believe that intellectual property rights, through their effects on
transactions with their peers, are on balance hindering progress in their research
areas (Lei et al., 2007).
There is, therefore, a sound argument that we cannot wait to find out how the
global implementation of the TRIPS agreement, and subsequent bilateral negotia-
tions on intellectual property rights, affect global innovation over the next quarter
century. IPRs, among the many challenges in life sciences, require forethought.
Decisions today about the ownership of and access to technologies (through
patents and licenses) will affect the paths of research and development for decades
ahead.
CONCLUSION
To develop BiOS, Jefferson has had to dedicate years of effort and ingenuity, call-
ing on all his talents as scientist, entrepreneur, innovator, fund-raiser and cheer-
leader. To create a flagship application for BiOS, he and his colleagues have invent-
ed a novel technology for genetic transformation of plants, designed to be unen-
cumbered by prior patent claims. To ensure its development follows the open
source model, he has fashioned the BiOS license, porting the open source licensing
concept from copyright to a more complex world of patent protection and biosafe-
ty regulation.
Given the magnitude of the task, it is no surprise that the development of BiOS
as a sustainable institutional innovation is still a work in progress. But at this stage,
the story merits a close reading. Jefferson has indisputable credibility as a witness
to the multidimensional challenges of acquiring freedom to operate in agricultur-
al biotechnology.
From a policy perspective, the major lesson is implicit. Almost the entire effort
in creating BiOS constitutes expenditure of valuable, if not unique, resources that
would be unnecessary, absent a patent system, or a system of efficient license agree-
ments. This effort, then, constitutes a concrete example of the “excess burden” of
the patent system, as it exists in developed countries, that is, its cost to innovators
that does not get transferred to others as benefits, but is lost as economic waste.
The availability of global communication at virtually zero cost offers unprece-
dented opportunities for exploiting specialization and the division of labor in
biotechnology research. Unfortunately, the recent revolution in patent protection,
and constraints imposed by biosafety regulations, have had the opposite effect,
forcing “in-house” aggregation of essential agricultural biotechnology innovation
capabilities within a few vertically-integrated firms. As this has happened, the
innovation race has slowed to a crawl.
Thus far, the prudent caution regarding biosafety, and the slowdown in
biotechnology innovation, have had no serious effects on food consumption; past
research investments, and rich-country food subsidies, have kept prices low and
supplies high. Given the current surge in biofuels demand, and the continuing
increase in world population, it would be foolhardy to assume that this situation
will continue. At present, open source is a promising, but problematic, way to pre-
serve some freedom to innovate in a world of patent thickets. Achievement of a less
restrictive patent regime would allow the full creative potential of open source col-
laboration to be realized in ensuring an adequate supply of food for the years
ahead.
Endnotes
1. Other models include patent pooling, clearinghouse mechanisms, and humanitarian licensing.
2. It is not clear that biotechnology per se is less amenable to specialization and open source collab-
oration, absent biosafety and intellectual property constraints. The potential efficiencies of spe-
cialization and collaboration in synthetic biology are illustrated by the BioBricks initiative
<http://www.biobricks.org/>. See Endy (2005).
3. In the interest of brevity, we discuss only highlights of several differences between patent and
copyright law and their significance for the translation of the OS model are provided. In fact, dif-
ferences in the legal systems have wide-ranging implications for OS that deserve more in-depth
analysis.
4. Robert Cook-Deegan (2003) describes how a group of academic institutions and thirteen private
firms formed a consortium to ensure the SNPs remained broadly accessible and were not private-
ly appropriated. He writes: “The SNP Consortium did not just dump the data. They filed patent
applications and then characterized the SNP markers enough so that they could be sure that
nobody else could patent them. At that point, they would abandon the patent. It is a very sophis-
ticated intellectual property strategy that in the end was intended to bolster the public domain. It
requires coordination, lots of paperwork, and it costs money to file and process applications, but
it appears to be an effective defensive patenting strategy.”
5. Lancashire (2001) reports 33 different nationalities among Linux contributors.
6. There are two principal international copyright conventions: the Universal Copyright Convention
(or UCC) and the Berne Convention. To protect copyright internationally the name of the author
is required and (for the UCC) the year of publication and a © symbol.
7. Jill Coffin (2006) notes: “For [an open source project] to function…an organizational and polit-
ical structure must support it. Hybrid, flexible political systems based upon meritocracy moti-
vates participants, provide rewards in the absence of capital, and encourage a community-wide
sense of project ownership. In addition to the bottom–up, peer–administered hierarchy described
in the analysis of Wikipedia, the benevolent dictator and consistently active personnel keep the
project alive and dialog open from above, so to speak…A transparent meritocratic structure also
allows for smooth succession in administrative and leadership positions.”
8. For instance the Berkeley Software Distribution (BSD) style licenses.
9. Generating genetically modified crops requires several indispensable technologies including those
necessary to transfer foreign DNA into a plant cell, selection gene markers to distinguish geneti-
cally modified cells from untransformed cells, and marker-excision technologies to remove super-
fluous DNA after successful integration of the trait gene into the plant genome. This packet of
core technologies is complemented with other research-specific technologies, which may also be
protected by IP. Of the transgenic crop technologies, transformation and selectable markers may
be considered “bottleneck” areas where the restricted access to the technologies can impede inno-
vation.
10. Broothaerts et al. found that the transformation efficiency of non-Agrobacterium bacterial
species ranged from less than 1% to almost 40% of that of Agrobacterium-mediated transforma-
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Computation and access to existing scientific research are important in the devel-
opment of any nation, yet both still operate at a remove from the most basic needs
of the world poor. On its face, it is far from obvious how the emergence of the net-
worked information economy can grow rice to feed millions of malnourished chil-
dren or deliver drugs to millions of HIV/AIDS patients. On closer observation,
however, it becomes apparent that a tremendous proportion of the way modern
societies grow food and develop medicines is based on scientific research and tech-
nical innovation. Important implications for the direction of innovation and for
access to its products exist in the basic choice between two models: (1) a system
that depends on exclusive rights and business models that use exclusion to appro-
priate research outputs and (2) a system that weaves together various actors—pub-
lic and private, organized and individual—in a nonproprietary social network of
innovation.
The failure of the exclusive rights model in meeting the needs of people in
developing countries has received considerable public attention in the context of
Yochai Benkler a Professor of Law at Yale Law School. His research focuses on the
effects of laws that regulate information production and exchange on the distribu-
tion of control over information flows, knowledge, and culture in the digital envi-
ronment. His particular focus has been on the neglected role of commons-based
approaches towards management of resources in the digitally networked environ-
ment. He has written about the economics and political theory of rules governing
telecommunications infrastructure, with a special emphasis on wireless communi-
cations, rules governing private control over information, in particular intellectu-
al property, and of relevant aspects of U.S. constitutional law.
This discussion is excerpted from The Wealth of Networks: How Social
Production Transforms Markets and Freedom (New Haven: Yale University Press),
2006, pp. 341-356. The editors of Innovations initiated the proposal to publish this
excerpt, benefiting from the provisions of Creative Commons Noncommercial Share
alike license under which an online version of The Wealth of Networks was distrib-
uted.
© 2006 Yochai Benkler
204 innovations / World Economic Forum Special edition
Commons-Based Agricultural Innovation
CAMBIA-BIOS
open and efficient development of tools, leaving competition and profit making
for the market in applications. At the other end of the spectrum, BiOS’s focus on
making tools freely available is built on the proposition that innovation for food
security involves more than biotechnology alone. It involves environmental man-
agement, locale-specific adaptations, and social and economic adoption in forms
that are locally and internally sustainable, as opposed to dependent on a constant
inflow of commoditized seed and other inputs. The range of participants is, then,
much wider than envisioned by PIPRA or the GCP. It ranges from multinational
corporations through academic scientists, to farmers and local associations, pool-
ing their efforts in a communications platform and institutional model that is very
similar to the way in which the GNU/Linux operating system has been developed.
As of this writing, the BiOS project is still in its early infancy, and cannot be eval-
uated by its outputs. However, its structure offers the crispest example of the extent
to which the peer-production model in particular, and commons-based produc-
tion more generally, can be transposed into other areas of innovation at the very
heart of what makes for human development—the ability to feed oneself ade-
quately.
Notes:
a. Large ambiguity results because technology transfer office reports increased revenues for yearend
2003 as $178M without reporting expenses; University Annual Report reports licensing revenue
with all “revenue from other educational and research activities,” and reports a 10 percent decline in
this category, “reflecting an anticipated decline in royalty and license income” from the $133M for
the previous year-end, 2002. The table reflects an assumed net contribution to university revenues
between $100-120M (the entire decline in the category due to royalty/royalties decreased propor-
tionately with the category).
b. University of California Annual Report of the Office of Technology Transfer is more transparent
than most in providing expenses—both net legal expenses and tech transfer direct operating
expenses, which allows a clear separation of net revenues from technology transfer activities.
c. Minus direct expenses, not including expenses for unlicensed inventions.
d. Federal- and nonfederal-sponsored research.
e. Almost half of this amount is in income from a single Initial Public Offering, and therefore
does not represent a recurring source of licensing revenue.
f. Technology transfer gross revenue minus the one-time event of an initial public offering
of LiquidMetal Technologies.
in which vitamin A deficiency causes roughly 500,000 cases of blindness a year and
contributes to more than 2 million deaths a year. However, when it came to trans-
lating the research into deliverable plants, the developers encountered more than
seventy patents in a number of
countries and six materials
transfer agreements that Increasing appropriation of
restricted the work and delayed
it substantially. PIPRA was basic tools and enabling
launched as an effort of public-
sector universities to cooperate
technologies creates barriers to
in achieving two core goals that entry for innovators—public-
would respond to this type of
barrier—preserving the right to sector, nonprofit organizations,
pursue applications to subsis- and the local farmers
tence crops and other develop-
ing-world-related crops, and themselves—concerned with
preserving their own freedom feeding those who cannot
to operate vis-à-vis each other’s
patent portfolios. signal with their dollars that
The basic insight of PIPRA,
which can serve as a model for
they are in need.
university alliances in the con-
text of the development of
medicines as well as agriculture, is that universities are not profit-seeking enter-
prises, and university scientists are not primarily driven by a profit motive. In a sys-
tem that offers opportunities for academic and business tracks for people with
similar basic skills, academia tends to attract those who are more driven by non-
monetary motivations. While universities have invested a good deal of time and
money since the Bayh-Dole Act of 1980 permitted and indeed encouraged them to
patent innovations developed with public funding, patent and other exclusive-
rights-based revenues have not generally emerged as an important part of the rev-
enue scheme of universities. As table 1 shows, except for one or two outliers, patent
revenues have been all but negligible in university budgets.4 This fact makes it fis-
cally feasible for universities to use their patent portfolios to maximize the global
social benefit of their research, rather than trying to maximize patent revenue. In
particular, universities can aim to include provisions in their technology licensing
agreements that are aimed at the dual goals of (a) delivering products embedding
their innovations to developing nations at reasonable prices and (b) providing
researchers and plant breeders the freedom to operate that would allow them to
research, develop, and ultimately produce crops that would improve food security
in the developing world.
While PIPRA shows an avenue for collaboration among universities in the
public interest, it is an avenue that does not specifically rely on, or benefit in great
measure from, the information networks or the networked information economy.
CONCLUSION
The BiOS initiative and PIPRA are the most salient examples of, and the most sig-
nificant first steps in, the development of commons-based strategies to achieve
food security. Their vitality and necessity challenge the conventional wisdom that
ever-increasing intellectual property rights are necessary to secure greater invest-
ment in research, or that the adoption of proprietary rights is benign. Increasing
appropriation of basic tools and enabling technologies creates barriers to entry for
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