The NS Interview: Dambisa Moyo, economist

“People need jobs and investment. There is no magic trick”

Your vision for Africa's future is a controversial one. Do you really believe that aid is dead?
If aid were a private-sector business or a political system, it would definitely have gone by now. But here we have a system that has been going on and on and not delivering.

So what's your solution?
There is no evidence anywhere on earth that aid has delivered long-term growth. The countries that have moved hundreds and millions of people out of poverty in our lifetime - China, India, South Africa, Botswana - have not relied on aid to the extent that some African countries do. Can we have a discussion about that?

How do you answer those who say aid is essential to development?
Behind closed doors, pretty much every international aid minister says that there is a fundamental problem with the system. Many African leaders are on record saying that it doesn't work, including Paul Kagame [of Rwanda] and Raila Odinga [of Kenya].

What about in a case like Haiti?
People need jobs. There is no magic trick. You need investment and job creation. Haiti can't come out of this disaster dependent on aid -
it's not viable.

What do you think of Barack Obama's attitude to the developing world?
It is too early to tell. But, as Africans, we can't continue to depend on the US. When America has double-digit unemployment, the government's priority is to provide for its people.

Don't developing countries need the help of rich ones to mitigate the effects of climate change?
The people at the forefront of this agenda are not going to be the aid agencies. In the past, the big development issues were led by western governments and the emerging markets were silent. But now, we've got a situation where they are taking much more of a lead.

Do you aim to influence African policy?
No. Most of what needs to be done in Africa should be spearheaded by African leaders. The fundamental problem is that the aid industry has become so pervasive that governments abdicate their responsibilities.

Would you ever get involved in politics?
I'm not a politician - it's not my cup of tea. I wouldn't be surprised if I ended up in finance again. Perhaps in developing markets.

Is there a plan?
No plan whatsoever. Life expectancy in Zambia is 39, so I am just happy to be here.

Has the financial crisis exposed the western economic system as unworkable?
Quite the contrary. Unfettered capitalism does not work, but over the past 300 years capitalism has created jobs and reduced poverty. To turn around and say that it is defunct is really a stretch. The banks didn't do anything illegal. It's completely simplistic to say that they are bad.

As an ex-banker, can you sympathise with the public fury over bank bonuses?
I don't think it's misplaced. If you are a taxpayer, you should be outraged. But it requires a more nuanced discussion.

You're now writing a book on "how the west was lost". Can you give us a preview?
Standard models of economic development have three ingredients: capital, labour and technology. I'm looking at how government policies on these have yielded bad outcomes.

What's your vision of the future?
By 2027, China will be the biggest country in the world. This year is the first year that Europe's population will decline. Our populations are changing. If you want to keep in the game, you have to do something transformational.

Do you want to go back to Zambia?
Absolutely. My family is there. Educated Africans won't stay if they are not getting paid what they think they are worth. But we have seen it in Ghana and Uganda - when things get more transparent, droves of people go home.

Do you vote?
You would be hard-pressed to find an African-born woman who doesn't.

Is there anything you regret?
I don't think so. I am fortunate: my parents told me the world was my oyster, when they could have said I wouldn't make it for a lot of reasons - rural, girl, small African country. So, no regrets.

Do some Africans lack that self-belief?
Many Africans succumb to the idea that they can't do things because of what society says. Images of Africa are negative - war, corruption, poverty. We need to be proud of our culture.

Are we all doomed?
Not at all. I am an eternal optimist. Look at me: I'm from the bowels of Africa, from a country without a coastline. I couldn't even have swum here. It would be impossible for me to think that we are doomed. I'm here, aren't I?

Defining Moments

1969 Born in Lusaka, Zambia. Moves to the US as a child, but returns for high school
1991-93 Back in the US, takes MBA, MPA at American University (DC) and Harvard
1993-95 Works at World Bank. Moves to the UK for a PhD in economics at Oxford
2001 Joins Goldman Sachs as a research economist and strategist
2009 Penguin publishes her first book - Dead Aid: Why Aid Is Not Working and How There Is a Better Way for Africa


Read more NS interviews

Sophie Elmhirst is features editor of the New Statesman

This article first appeared in the 08 March 2010 issue of the New Statesman, Game on

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An English hero for the ages: Ian Botham at 60

Botham blends his sportsmanship and deep-seated passion for cricket with a lust for life.

Begging W H Auden’s pardon, it is possible both to honour and to value the vertical man, and in the case of Ian Botham, who turned 60 on 24 November, it is our bounden duty. No sportsman has given Britons so much to enjoy in the past half-century and no sportsman is loved more. Two decades after he retired from first-class cricket, his reputation as one of life’s champions remains unassailable.

No mere cricketer is he, either. Botham is a philanthropist, having raised more than £12m for various charities, notably Leukaemia and Lymphoma Research. In December, 30 years after his first walk from John o’Groats to Land’s End, he will set off again, in South Africa, where England are on tour. And he really does walk, too, not amble. As somebody who accompanied him on one of his dozen walks said: “You can’t keep up with him. The man is a phenomenon.”

Of all postwar sportsmen, only Bobby Charlton and, at a pinch, Henry Cooper come close to matching Botham’s enduring popularity. But Charlton, a shy man who was scarred by the Munich plane crash of 1958 (and may never have recovered from its emotional effects), has never comfortably occupied a public stage; and Cooper, being a boxer, had a solitary role. Botham, by contrast, spoke for England. Whenever he picked up his bat, or had a ball in his hand, he left spectators in no doubt.

Others have also spoken for England. Bobby Moore and Martin Johnson, captains respectively of England’s World Cup-winning football and rugby teams, were great players but did not reach out to people as naturally as Botham. Nick Faldo, Lester Piggott, Sebastian Coe and, to bring us up to date, Lewis Hamilton have beaten the best in the world, but they lacked those qualities that Botham displayed so freely. That is not to mark them down. They were, and are, champions. But Botham was born under a different star.

It was John Arlott, the great cricket commentator, who first spotted his uniqueness. Covering a match at Taunton in 1974, he asked the young colt to carry his bags up the rickety staircase to the press box, where Arlott, wearing his oenophile’s hat, pulled out a bottle of red wine and invited Botham to drink. Forty years later Botham is a discriminating wine drinker – and maker. Along with his friend and fellow England great Bob Willis, and their Australian wine­making pal Geoff Merrill, he has put his name to a notable Shiraz, “BMW”.

Arlott, with his nose for talent and good company, saw something in the young Botham that Brian Close, his captain at Somerset, was beginning to bring out. Later, Mike Brearley, as England captain, drew out something even more remarkable. As Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote, you’ve got to be carefully taught. And Botham, a fine team man as well as a supreme individual performer, has never withheld praise from those who enabled him to find his voice.

If sport reveals character, then cricket is the game that reveals it most clearly. In no other sport is the individual performance rooted so firmly in a team context. Every over brings a contest of skill and intelligence between batsman and bowler but only a team can win the match. “A cricketer,” as Arlott said, “is showing you something of himself all the time.”

Cricket also reveals national character more than any other sport. Football may be the most popular game in the world but cricket, and cricketers, tell us far more about England and Englishness. It is instructive, in this regard, to hear what Philippe Auclair, a French journalist and author long resident in London, has to say about Botham: “He is essentially an 18th-century Englishman.” In one! It’s not difficult to sense a kinship with Tom Jones, Fielding’s embodiment of 18th-century life, who began his journey, as readers may recall, in Somerset.

A country boy who played for Worcestershire after leaving Somerset, and who lives by choice in North Yorkshire, Botham is an old-fashioned Englishman. Although nobody has yet found him listening to the parson’s sermon, he is conservative with a small and upper-case C, a robust monarchist, handy with rod and gun, and happiest with a beaker in front of him. He represents (though he would never claim to be a representative) all those people who understand instinctively what England means, not in a narrow way, but through something that is in the blood.

Above all, he will be remembered for ever as the hero of 1981. Even now it takes some believing that Botham bowled and batted with such striking success that the Australians, who were one up after two Tests, were crushed. Some of us who were actually at Headingley for the famous third Test – thousands who claim to have been there were not – recall the odds of 500-1 on an England victory going up on the electronic scoreboard that Saturday evening.

Botham made 149 not out as England, following on, beat the Aussies by 18 runs. For three hours the country seemed to stop. In the next Test, at Edgbaston, Botham took five wickets for one run as Australia fell under his spell. Then, at Old Trafford, on a dank Saturday afternoon, he played the most memorable innings of his life and one of the greatest innings ever played by an Englishman: 118 magnificent, joyful runs. Joy: that’s the word. Botham brought joy into people’s lives.

Yet it was the final Test at the Oval, which ended in a draw, that brought from him a performance no less remarkable than those from before. He bowled 89 overs in that match, flat out, continuing to run in when others withdrew with injury. That was the team man coming to the fore. Little wonder his comrades thought the world of him.

Modest, loyal, respectful to opponents, grateful to all who have lent him a hand, and supported throughout a turbulent life by Kath, his rock of a wife, and their three children, this is a cricketing hero to rank with W G Grace, Jack Hobbs, Wally Hammond and Fred Trueman. A feature in the lives of all who saw him, and a very English hero. 

This article first appeared in the 26 November 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Terror vs the State