On English in the Philippines

While I live in a country where English is an official language, I am surprised by how few people truly possess a comfortable mastery of it. Notwithstanding more and more call centers,  generally poor functional English proficiency in the Philippines has been a stylized fact for the past decade or so (not to mention the observation that acceptance/hiring rates in these call centers remain very low). What gives?

If my limited economic intuition is right, then this situation can be described as:

1. A market failure;

2. Or a consequence of the Philippines' limited exposure to globalization. 

The "language problem" can be characterized as a market failure because of the inability to accurately reflect demand and supply for English in the workplace. (In this instance, we can think of firms and households as being on the "demand" side, and schools representing "supply.")

On the demand side:

1. Firms and households underestimate (intentionally or otherwise) their need for English fluency. 

- I don't know of anyone or any study having estimated a peso magnitude for productivity arising from good English skills, so in the absence of such a number, many individuals mistakenly presume that bad English can be remedied "on the job," or with sufficient exposure to formal work correspondence. The costs of training those who are not skilled in the language and the inefficiencies from employing those weak in English usage are ignored--because of an ever-present (?) sufficient number of those who, with their skill, can compensate for or shoulder such costs. (There's also the issue of foregone opportunities from having a wider segment of the work force using English as a currency of ideas.)

2. As a result of (1), workers and potential hires with clear spoken/written English advantages are not provided the right incentives. 

- The absence of powerful financial and social premiums to English fluency despite its clear importance (at least from a business process outsourcing standpoint) means there is every reason not to invest in improving English instruction or individually make an effort to improve on using the language. (In fact, it may even be said that in some social circles, being good in English is a deterrent to effective communication.)

(1 and 2 underpinned by a belief that English fluency should be a given among college graduates, when it is not.)

Again, why are these happening? Turning 1 on its head, perhaps there really is no need for those in the domestic labor force to be good English speakers and writers; maybe our ways of working have effectively decoupled, at least linguistically, from the rest of the world-- like Japan and China. That could be seen as a boon--except for the fact that much of the knowledge directly useful to the labor market is not in Filipino. (Plus the fact that, by most metrics, we are really not viewed in the international community as an important country.)

A few more econ notes:

1. The "supply" of good English users, while limited, is renewable, and as noted, produces favorable externalities that benefit even those with no immediate use or penchant for it--curiously, because proficient English users in the Philippines often happen to be the best in expressing themselves in the vernacular. (Coincidence? Maybe not. Clarity is primarily a function of systematic thinking, so we should able to universally perceive and appreciate good exposition/explanation, regardless of language; it could be that what we are faced with is not merely a language skills gap, but a fundamental epistemology problem--the discontinuity and inability to synchronize between our "thinking" language and our "expressing" language, or a basic deficiency in critical/conceptual thinking.)

2. Since this English situation can also be seen as an inequality problem, why not "subsidize" English teaching (with small and smart rewards in the classroom) and, conversely, "tax" correct but frivolous/context-inappropriate English use (via subtle penalties)? Here, the idea of "nudges," as advocated by behavioral economists like Cass Sunstein, could be most useful. 

3. How can we reconcile the utility of English literacy with compelling, empirical results pointing to improved understanding of math and science via instruction in the vernacular? Again, nudges: doing away with having younger students learn the more technical aspects of Filipino grammar so more time could be spent for technical skills instruction in the native tongue (treating Filipino as a useful "default"); mandating all official documents be produced in both English and Filipino; targeting poor communities for "reinforced" English learning initiatives and the opposite for the more affluent segments of society.

Consulting and its rewards

What does it mean to be called an "expert"? For many academics, it means being tapped to be a consultant--an informal adviser or expert brought in by an organization to solve a problem or train people. It's often the most profitable of all activities a university researcher or professor can get into (other than running a start-up as wildly successful as Google), but other than the monetary upside, consulting offers its own set of rewards--chiefly, the chance to build meaningful relationships with the people who "make things happen"; the much greater likelihood to network and interact with important decision-makers, whether in business, civil society, and government is its own psychic reward. Seeing through an idea from (far-fetched) concept to (practical) reality? Priceless.

Power is wedded to ideas because ideas enable, validate, and actualize power--which is why it should not be surprising to hear of scholars being frequently tagged as part of a society's "elite" or "establishment," regardless of economic status. (That is, even the most radical of thinkers can be coopted, given the right opportunity. Or the right price, to be more cynical about the entire enterprise.) Unsurprisingly, the most well-reputed (not necessarily the most intelligent) consultants get tapped by the most influential, and in the process, become thought leaders themselves (as public intellectuals). It's an inevitable, iterative dynamic between politics, society, and science. When guided toward the right ends, it makes sweeping change--and therefore, progress--possible.

Successful consulting, of course, depends on continuous teaching and learning.  For these, there are no substitutes. With great power, after all, comes great responsibility.

Today's links:

How economists missed the financial crisis 

What if women were always "in the mood"?

Short yet meaningful advice for incoming college students (from people who know best)

The surprising similarities between travel writing and video game reviewing

Economic "disneylands" as potential policy labs and drivers of growth

Dressing up to move up

"A man should look as if he had bought his clothes with intelligence, put them on with care, and then forgotten all about them." 

In a day and age when office dress codes are almost non-existent especially for working men, the advice above, courtesy of Hardy Amies, is one that many self-respecting male professionals and soon-to-be graduates would be well-advised to heed. Not just because the market for serious romantic relations is much trickier these days (due to well-documented preference shifts in favor of postponing marriage for income and personal growth, as well as the complications arising from less stringent relationship arrangements), but more so because of the generally bad state of the job market. 

If there's any good the "casual revolution" brought about by the dot-com boom (or more appropriately, regression) of the 1990s, it is the fact that looking clean and presentable has become a source of comparative advantage and, consequently, a subtle yet powerful signal of one's fitness as a worker or as a partner. (The simple logic here is that being well-kempt tells the other party how seriously you take her and whatever the situation is.) The "casual revolution" has also unintentionally helped those who are poorer and less physically attractive, by virtue of the now-greater marginal value of affordable, accessible services like good tailoring and having one's hair cut. From a microeconomics perspective, two observations:

The commonness of unrefined sartorial sensibilities has made dressing up a less costly endeavor in terms of net gains from invested time and effort (bigger payoffs and more positive externalities, aside from getting compliments);

The prices of the services mentioned relative to personal incomes have not gone up appreciably over time.

The key, of course, to maintaining the value of dressing up these days is to keep its rewards discreet. After all, too many market entrants, as any economics student knows, eliminates any comparative advantage. 

A modest proposal

I'm not a basketball expert, but given the lack of success Philippine national teams have had in many years, I would hazard that it's time to seriously consider adopting an unorthodox playing style anchored on two things: full court press defense, and  spread offense (a.k.a. Phoenix Suns' "seven-seconds-or-less," circa 2004-2006). Such a system, of course, presents its own set of challenges, but when mastered, I believe, should make the RP teams a frequent dark horse--or "favored underdog," if there is such a word--in international tournaments.

The most compelling argument for choosing to play this way, I think, is the RP teams' very obvious height disadvantage compared to just about every other national squad (except Sri Lanka(?)). There's a basketball truism stating that "you can't teach height (or length or wingspan, depending on the variation you've heard)--which is exactly the case with the Philippine squads. The tallest player fielded in the 2009 Asian Championships, for example, stood at just 6'9" or 210 cm (Mick Pennisi). That team's average height was, in turn, just  6'4" (194 cm). (The average NBA player stands at 6'6" / 201 cm.) In basketball, that translates to giving up more shots, blocks, and rebounds to opposing squads. I'm not able to find more statistics to support this point at the moment, but I'm confident that there likely is a strong correlation between a team's offensive and defensive strength (percentage of shots made and opponents' corresponding field goal percentage) and the presence of taller players.

On the other hand, the relative smallness of our players means that we have more point guards and wingmen, and therefore:

1. Are suited to playing uptempo basketball;

2. And can potentially defend inbounds, passing lanes, and half courts better than most other teams. 

The second proposition was explored in depth by Malcolm Gladwell. While Gladwell's story is more of an extreme example that seems to advocate shortcuts in place of proper skills coaching, there is no denying the potential effectivity that frequent, well-executed half court stops can have on teams built like RP's.  On the offensive side, we already have the right personnel-- mainly, quick and athletic players who can run persistently and shoot from anywhere. The question, of course, is if the players will be disciplined and strong enough to constantly pressure opponents into passing turnovers while pushing the tempo of games. 

Why aren't there more Filipino academicians?

As I begin my pursuit of an academic career, everyday I find myself more surprised by how few recent graduates do the same.

The advantages, to me at least, seem obvious: Compared to the "corporate world," the academe is a much more hospitable and meritocratic workplace, despite the occasional and unavoidable politics--which, to begin with, is already muted relative to other work environments. Opportunities for personal growth abound, thanks to more convenient access to training programs, graduate schools, and a constant exposure to youth and ideas.  For those who hate routine and are motivated and intellectually curious (who usually would be the student leadership and academic awardees in every batch), few careers can rival the social value and fulfillment of one in teaching and research. (There are,  of course, monetary considerations, but my hunch is that a beginning lecturer/instructor's pay shouldn't diverge much from most entry-level, private sector salaries, especially on a per-hour basis.) 

A few thoughts of mine from a year ago, in a published op-ed piece:

"Surprisingly, there isn’t a lack of avenues for scientific work in the Philippines. The International Rice Research Institute (IRRI), Asia’s oldest and most respected agricultural research center, is based in this country. There are publicly funded science high schools teaching advanced math and science across the Philippines. Scholarships for science degrees abound. There’s even a local biotech consulting firm!"

"That opportunities to engage in science persist despite generally unfavorable economic circumstances clearly point to our science problem’s deeper, multifaceted roots." 

"The lack of the necessary human capital to undertake serious research is compounded by two problems: our students’ generally poor performance in basic science and math, and the “practical” orientation of existing science and engineering programs. Our deficiencies in basic education are well-known and documented, but the other problem is something hardly acknowledged in the academe. I’m referring here to a career mindset most families and science schools cultivate in their graduates: that majoring in science is equivalent to either becoming a doctor, taking a board exam, or ending up as a teacher (which, from most Filipinos’ viewpoint, is tantamount to low pay and status throughout one’s life). With graduate school relegated to last place in the college graduate’s mind, is it anymore surprising why we aren’t making real, substantial gains in developing science-driven industries?"

The last factor--social acceptance--is probably the most powerful, and I surmise it is the primary reason why most high-achieving students prefer to stay away (initially, but to most, perhaps permanently) from the academe. The pressure to land prestigious (and not necessarily well-paid) work --usually as a management trainee or as an obscure analyst in a multinational company--tends to displace most other motivations, even the thought of other possible occupations. Even amid the worst economic conditions worldwide since the Great Depression, the office remains, sadly, a powerful default; the corporation, for its part, persists as an influential employer of talent. This is made worse by the poor condition of the local job market, which does offer sparse attractive alternatives to the corporate way. (And by state policy that advocates exporting labor and promoting low value-added industries.)

What will it take for more skilled Filipinos to reconsider their professional careers, as many in the American financial sector have done recently? Already, I think we can feel the effects of shortages in key professions (meteorologists and teachers, most prominently); my worst fear is that the social costs of being severely undermanned in work areas that create or apply new knowledge will very, very soon emerge to haunt the Philippines--hurricane Katrina-style. (Or bagyong Milenyo-like, as Filipinos would put it.)