Development in which people and
the planet matter
Small is Still Beautiful
By Maurice Malanes
When
the late British economist E.F.Schumacher came out with his
bestseller, Small is Beautiful, in the 1970s, many economists
dismissed him as a wishful thinker,whose suggested development
formula appealed only to hippies. But his proposed development
schemes towards "the small and the gentle" are now
again gaining adherents.
Schumacher
has said that ever-bigger machines and ever-bigger development
structures do not only leave bigger wounds and bigger scars on our
planet; they also tend to concentrate wealth in a few hands. Amid the
current backlash and conflicts created by ever-bigger development
projects rammed down the throats of many people, Schumacher, if he
were alive today, would probably tell the proponents of bigness, "I
told you so."
Many
Third World countries are now obsessed with bigness. From Malaysia
and Indonesia to the Philippines, governments are seeking to build
the biggest airport and seaport, the biggest mining operation, the
biggest golf course, and the biggest mega-mall. Erecting all these
enormous structures requires equally enormous amounts of energy and
power; so governments have to build super-big hydroelectric dams,
geothermal plants and coal-fired power plants.
Given
its growth targets and projections, the Philippines, for example,
expects that electricity sales will increase from 33,532 GWh in 1996
to 148,112 GWh in 2010 and to 426,349 GWh in 2025. Demand for
electricity will follow the same trend. From 5,855 MW in 1996,
electricity demand will shoot up to 25,564 MW in 2010 and 73,587 MW
in 2025, translating to an average growth rate of 11.1 percent
between 1996 and 2010, and 7.3 percent between 2010 and 2025.
To
meet the growing demand for electricity, a total of 92,138 MW must be
generated between 1996 and 2025. The Philippine government has thus
firmed up projects totaling 12,978 for commissioning from 1996 to
2005. For this period, major capacity additions include 8,660 MW from
coal-fired plants; 6,500 MW from gas-fired plants; 5,515 MW,
geothermal plants; 4,732 MW, large and semi-large hydro plants; and
3,947 MW from renewable energy sources .
All
these figures show that as societies "progress" (which
means as societies continue to consume more and more goods), the more
we need to squeeze our planet to produce the energy to produce the
goods we continue to consume. Unfortunately, as Schumacher has
reiterated a now familiar line from Mahatma Gandhi, our planet can
provide for all of our needs but not for our greed. But the
proponents of globalized free trade continue to exploit human greed
to the point of creating more and more artificial "needs"
for the market of new goods. The result is disastrous as societies
become obsessed with bigness under the illusory hope that bigness can
help satisfy human greed.
Bigness,
however, continues to cause ever-bigger problems for both people and
the environment.
Irony
One
irony of "development" is imbalance. Development tends to
be concentrated more in the metropolis and other urban centers as
rural villages are left out in the cold. Big hydroelectric dams, for
example, displace indigenous folk, but these folk remain literally in
the dark, as their villages are the least priority in government
electrification programs and other social services.
A
case in point are the indigenous Ibaloi in Benguet Province in
northern Philippines. In the 1950s and 1960s, hundreds of Ibaloi
families were dislocated when the 75-MW Ambuklao and 100-MW Binga
dams were built along the Agno River. Linked to the Luzon grid, the
power generated by the two dams has helped supply the power needs of
mining companies and cities as far as Manila, which is more than 300
kilometers south of the Ibaloi community in Bokod town.
On
the other hand, the Ibaloi communities around the two dams were
energized only in the 1980s. Government up to now has yet to properly
compensate the Ibaloi folk the two dams displaced.
The
Ibaloi's wounds have not yet healed and government has embarked again
on a new bigger dam downstream of the Ambuklao and Binga dams. It is
feared that the 345-MW San Roque Multi-purpose Dam Project, which
began construction in February 1998 and is more than half-done, will
submerge three Ibaloi villages (population: 20,000) once the dam's
water level rises from siltation by erosion and mine wastes from
upstream.
Once
the dam is completed in 2003, the power to be generated will help
reinforce the Luzon grid, which supplies electricity to Manila and
all of Luzon's urban centers. The displaced Ibaloi folk are,
therefore, not the priority in the power-generation project, which
was conceived as a government "flagship project" to help
respond to a power crisis the country faced in 1995 and 1996.
Indigenous
peoples elsewhere share the tragic saga of the Ibaloi. In Africa's
Senegal River Valley, the World Bank-funded Manantali and Diama dams
did not only displace 100,000 households. The Bank approved a US$38
million loan for the dam turbine's installation and operation without
providing for a water-management plan to prevent water-borne diseases
.
Malaria
and schistosomiasis rose dramatically since the Manantali and Diama
dams were built. It was estimated that adequate measures to manage
the flows from the dam could reduce deaths by 2,500 from 8,000 lives
taken each year. Newly created water bodies, such as irrigation
canals and ponds, breed schistosomiasis-bearing snails, which
seasonal fluctuations in salt inflows used to control.
The
Senegal and Ibaloi folk's horror stories of "damnation" are
replicated in other dam constructions in Brazil, Namibia, India's
Narmada River Valley, Malaysia's Bakun community, Laos, Nepal, and
China.
Elsewhere,
conflicts have become so intense that they have led to violence and
killings. The International Rivers Network (IRN), an independent
global body monitoring mega-dams worldwide, has reported the killing
in October 1997 of Fulgencio Manoel da Silva, an articulate Brazilian
activist who helped lead protests against the Itaparica Dam, which
uprooted 7,000, including Da Silva's family, from their homes and
farms.
What
happened to Da Silva is familiar to Filipinos who had also mourned
the killing in April 1980 of Kalinga tribal chief Macliing Dulag, one
of the staunch leaders in the opposition against a World Bank-funded
series of dams along the Chico River in northern Philippines.
Also
in Brazil, over 6,200 people, including the last of the Ofaie Xavante
Indian tribe, were forced out of their homes when the 2,250-square
kilometer Porto Primavera Dam reservoir was filled with water in May
1998. The Sao Paulo Electric Company has settled only 340 out of the
1,700 affected families.
A
proposed hydroelectric dam also continues to be a dagger pointed at
the heart of a community of 15,000 Himba people in Namibia. The dam
is expected to flood the Himba lands, thus, threatening to erase the
Himbas' culture and way of life.
The
world's most ambitious dam thus far, China's Three Gorges Dam,
according to IRN, will displace 1.9 million people, who include both
indigenous and non-indigenous folk. The 400-mile long, 600-foot high
and two-kilometer wide dam will inundate 13 cities, 140 towns, 1,352
villages, and 650 factories. IRN has warned that those who are going
to be displaced are poised to resist.
We
have been talking about big dams alone and one thing is clear: human
lives and health, ecology and biodiversity, and cultures have to be
sacrificed just to produce power. We need enormous power to support
not only basic needs, but also consumerist lifestyles in the
metropolis.
People
in metropolitan societies debate whether a microwave oven is a luxury
or a basic need. But chances are village folk in remote hinterlands
have not seen the light of Thomas Alva Edison's invention - the
incandescent electric bulb.
Thinking small
Amid
the global madness for bigness, the small-is-beautiful alternative
offers promise and hope for upland folk who simply dream to replace
their kerosene lamps and pine pith with incandescent or flourescent
bulbs.
The
upland village of Lon-oy in San Gabriel town, La Union Province in
northern Philippines is a good example. For the 1,000 or so Lon-oy
villagers, March 31, 2001 was the first day of the rest of their
lives. This was the day when they first saw the light from an
electric bulb after Bishop Joel Pachao of the Episcopal Church of the
Philippines blessed and inaugurated a 15-kilowatt micro-hydro power
plant the community helped build.
Almost
three years in the making, the micro-hydro power project will now
finally light up the nights of the remote upland village after Bishop
Pachao ceremoniously switched on the power from a power house at the
foot of a ravine along the Lon-oy River. With a maximum average of 80
watts allotted per household, electricity from the project will be
used mainly for lighting. Television sets and other appliances such
as refrigerators and ovens are not allowed. Otherwise, the community
will have to worry about breakdowns due to power overload.
Lighting
up the 130 households of the village alone has begun to change the
lives of the villagers. Instead of burning their midnight kerosene
lamps, public school teachers can now work more comfortably under
flourescent electric lights, doing their lesson plans or checking
papers. Broom-makers, who used to be at the mercy of the daylight,
can now make brooms for sale until late evening. Sitting around a
winnower filled with legumes and beans to peel off, members of a
family also exchange stories and riddles, sing songs, or simply
converse before they go to bed.
Early
in the morning, members of an association of village women can start
baking bread in their liquefied petroleum gas-fueled oven in their
newly built bakery, which the Department of Labor and Employment
funded. Some women are now thinking of other livelihood projects,
which they can do under their bright light at dawn or late evening.
These other livelihoods will augment their income from farming.
On
the lighter side, at least one villager has said he can now see the
sweet smile and other "body language" of his wife under the
flourescent light.
Lon-oy
is one of 10,000 villages not covered by the state-run National Power
Corporation's grid areas. In its Philippine Energy Plan, the
Department of Energy had targeted to energize all of the 1,409
municipalities (at least the town proper) by 1996, all of the 35,213
barangays or villages by 2010 and another 10.2 million households by
2018. The program also aims to bring electricity to an additional
889,912 households by 2025, bringing the total number of households
to be energized to 11.1 million (Department of Energy, 1996). Under
this plan Lon-oy would be one of the villages to be energized by
2010. One problem is this is only on paper.
There
are other hitches in the government's rural electrification program.
And this is not only because government has to displace people as a
result of building mega-dams or sacrificing public health in exchange
for coal-fired power plants. Rural electrification through the
National Power Corporation's conventional grid areas is too costly
for rural folk to afford. Rural villagers will hardly be able to pay
the cost of electricity once the National Power Corporation seeks to
impose bills based on rates that seek to regain investments and earn
profit. The best alternative for off-grid areas, where the poorest of
the poor live, are community-based and community-run micro-hydro
power projects, so says Victoria Lopez of the nongovernment Sibat
(Sibol ng Agham at Teknolohiya - Wellspring of Science and
Technology).
Citing
success stories other than Lon-oy's, Lopez says community-based and
community-managed small renewable energy projects are the least
costly, thus, more affordable and sustainable. For villages such as
northern Philippines' Cordillera hinterlands, the most appropriate
and cheapest source of energy are mountain springs and tributaries of
the upland region's seven major river systems.
Empowering
Lon-oy's
success was no picnic. The project's triumph was not as simple as
procuring the funds, buying the equipment, and installing the
facility. It also involved educating and organizing the community
folk, a job which the Episcopal Diocese of Northern Philippines
undertook to prepare the community. That most of the community folk
are Episcopalians helped the Diocese a lot in its organizing and
education work.
For
its part, Sibat, through its engineers, did the technical part of the
project and helped train community folk on repair and maintenance. It
was also through Sibat's prodding that the Department of Energy
approved and channeled some P1.5 million (US$750,000) directly to the
community.
But
the most empowering of all was the community folk's participation in
the whole project -- from planning to implementation. The community
folk have also invested a counterpart in the project - their labor.
Almost every one can claim ownership of the project, which came about
only after the men, women and children picked up their picks and
shovels to dig the diversion canal; hauled gravel, sand and cement,
and did other back-breaking labor.
In
working for the project, the community folk resorted to their age-old
tradition of cooperative self-help or reciprocal labor, which is
still very much alive when someone builds or moves a house or when
one villager plants and harvests rice. Through their initiative,
members of the community decided that each household would render 50
days of labor for the project.
Luz
Marzan, a mother of seven, for example, worked 26 days, mostly
hauling gravel and sand. Her husband and two children rendered a
total of 24 days. Some opted to work for more than 50 days, the
excess of which they sold to other families who, for one reason or
another, could not render manual labor. Teachers and other public
servants, for instance, could not help out except on weekends. Thus,
as the community decided by consensus, other members of the community
could pay P100 (US$2) per household in place of a day's labor.
Having
invested their time and sweat, the Lon-oy villagers have a big stake
in the project. They therefore cannot afford to let their efforts go
to waste. This is where sustainability begins.
Community-run,
simple micro-hydro power projects can really change lives and lighten
the burden of rural folk. An earlier micro-hydro power project built
in the equally far-flung sub-village of Ngibat, Tinglayan town in
Kalinga Province, also in northern Philippines, was the first success
story, which has now been told and retold. Jointly initiated by the
nongovernment Montanosa Research and Development Center and Sibat,
the project has helped debunk the perception that electrification is
possible only through government's framework of bigness.
The
Ngibat micro-hydro power project, which can generate five kilowatts
of electricity, does not only light up the community of 32
households. With a maximum 40 watts allotted per household, the
project, which was inaugurated in January 1994, can also run a
community rice mill (Sibat Case Study, 2000). This facility has
helped unburden women and children who, by tradition, pound rice
every morning and afternoon. Freed from such tedious labor, the women
can now engage in other livelihoods while the children have more time
to review their school lessons.
The
project has also helped speed up the work of local blacksmiths who
work at an average of eight hours a day ten times a month, or three
to four months a year. The micro-hydro power project provides for the
492 kwh/month total power needs of an electric grinder, drill press,
and hand drill.
Another
livelihood the micro-hydro power project enhanced is the manufacture
of basi or sugarcane wine. Since 1997, it has powered a sugarcane
presser, which is twice faster than a carabao-(water buffalo) drawn
wooden presser. The sugarcane extract is fermented into wine, which
is now the main income-generating livelihood of 26 households.
A
simple micro-hydro power project, as the Lon-oy and Ngibat projects
show, can really change lives. If it can help create rural
livelihoods and raise incomes, rural folk need not migrate and help
congest already crowded cities. It will also be unnecessary for rural
folk to sell their working carabao (water buffalo) and mortgage their
house and land to pay their way for jobs overseas, which, as
experience shows, do not always turn out to bring the much-sought
"better life".
Management
The
micro-hydro power project's empowering impact can be seen not only in
economic terms. This is also exhibited in the increased capacity of
the community to manage and sustain the project.
One
management scheme both the Ngibat and Lon-oy community folk
internalized is watershed protection. Both communities have learned
early on that unless they protect their watersheds, their rivers will
run dry and no water will run the turbines and the generators in
their powerhouses. Community folk, therefore, don't clear crucial
watersheds for their swidden farms.
Another
is how the community sets policies and guidelines on how to use and
maintain the project. In Lon-oy, the community folk have computed and
decided by consensus that each household must pay to the community
cooperative P35 (US$0.71) a month for the maintenance and upkeep of
the facility. For the same purpose, Ngibat community folk have set a
monthly flat rate of P22 (US$0.45) per household. The monthly dues of
both Ngibat and Lon-oy communities are 15 to 20 times lower than the
minimum dues collected by commercial electric cooperatives in the
urban and other grid areas. For humanitarian reasons, Ngibat's old
widows and others who, for one reason or another, are unable to pay
in cash or in kind, are exempted or subsidized by the other more
productive members of the community.
The
community's direct hand in running and setting policies for the
project is empowering enough for the local folk. This is practically
local autonomy and democratic governance at work.
Micro-hydro bias
Sibat's
Victoria Lopez does not mind hiding her bias for micro-hydro power.
For her, micro-hydro power, compared to other renewable energy
sources, remains the cheapest and the most appropriate for off-grid
remote upland villages. It can also electrify an entire village at
least cost, compared to solar power, for example, which has less
capacity. Of course, the latter has its use, too, particularly in
areas where there are no rivers. But in upland villages with rivers
and tributaries, micro-hydro power is the most superior.
Micro-hydro
power has another edge. Equipment needed such as the turbine can be
locally fabricated, thus helping promote and develop local
technology. An engineer from the government-run Pangasinan State
University in northern Philippines, for example, fabricated the
turbine used in the Lon-oy project. In case of a breakdown, local
technicians can easily repair or replace a locally- made equipment.
Not so with solar panels, which are imported.
Companies
in Western countries are now cashing in on the trend towards
developing earth-friendly renewable energy. To Sibat, it is best if
the Philippines, or any Third World country for that matter, does not
fall prey to becoming a mere market of equipment and gadgets from the
North. Even if crude, a country's technology, according to Sibat,
must grow. And this cannot happen if a country contents itself with
being just a market of technology and equipment from the North.
Ninety-five
percent of equipment and gadgets used for all of Sibat-aided
micro-hydro power projects are manufactured locally. This only proves
that given the opportunity, national technologies can flourish.
Unfortunately,
local technologies fail to thrive because Third World governments,
such as the Philippines, prefer to contract overseas companies to
build big dams, if not coal-fired or geothermal power plants. These
companies do not only bring in their experts and consultants. They
also bring in their technologies and gadgets. Under this arrangement,
these companies are helping create markets for their home countries'
technology and gadgets and facilities. This stifles the growth of
national technologies.
Brain Drain
Their
technical support no doubt has helped in the success of the
micro-hydro power projects. But the engineers of Sibat prefer to
remain low-key and humble. Why? Because they say the whole success of
a project lies in how well organized and educated the members of a
community are.
But
the technical know-how of Sibat's engineers is equally crucial. And
they don't just have the know-how; they also have the commitment to
serve poor rural folk. This makes them a rare breed amid the
brain-drain of technical experts who prefer to work for multinational
corporations within and outside the Philippines. Lured by higher pay,
many of the country's engineers are helping develop new technologies
and products and produce wealth for multinational corporations.
The
three technical engineers of Sibat - mechanical engineer Frank
Taguba, civil engineer Paul Tabiolo and electrical engineer Manuel
Maputi - may not have thick wallets. But the three, whom Sibat
describes as "RE (renewable energy) engineers," all say
they are rich in psychic rewards. During an inauguration of another
micro-hydro power project in a village in Kalinga Province, Frank
Taguba, for example, hugged a colleague and cried. But his tears were
tears of joy - joy in seeing the concrete result of a project he
helped work out.
These
engineers prefer to remain incognito. But in the hearts of simple
hinterland folk, whose hard lives a five or 15-kilowatt micro-hydro
power facility helped ease, Sibat's engineers stand taller than
politicians who promise heaven when they are courting votes.
The
other engineers who opt to work for multinationals cannot be blamed.
In a country, which has yet to appreciate how to maximize the skills
of its own experts, the option left for other engineers is to search
for job opportunities elsewhere. Result: the country is drained of
its own talents and experts.
But
with a few committed engineers like Sibat's Taguba, Tabiolo and
Maputi, hope is not lost on the Philippines. People like them can
help transform the lives of needy village folk with the click of an
electric switch from a micro-hydro-powered generator.
The Alternative Game
Filipino
activists protesting the construction of mega-dams that displace
thousands of indigenous peoples often encounter a common remark and
question in public forums: "You are good at exposing the
threats of big dams and opposing these. But what do you propose as
alternatives?"
Chances
are these "expose-oppose" activists are tongue-tied
on what to say and how to answer such remarks and questions. But the
simple answer lies in one secret of good journalism: show rather than
tell, that is.
Documenting
and showing how "success stories" such as Lon-oy's and
Ngibat's were made and disseminating these to as many people as
possible can help convince others that there are indeed alternatives
to "development projects" governments often ram down
people's throats. In so doing, "expose-oppose".
activists can be transformed into "expose-oppose-and-propose"
activists.
For
want of any information about alternatives, ordinary folk often
accept without any informed judgment "development projects"
governments impose. But informed about other options, particularly
the "small and gentle" alternatives, people in the
grassroots can be wiser.
Many
policy makers, who are also in the dark about people- and
earth-friendly alternatives, may yet have to see the wisdom of the
small, the gentle and the beautiful. It is people and our planet
after all, so says E.F. Schumacher, who matter in development. Not
profit at all costs. Otherwise, that would be global harakiri.