Strengthening Resilience in Developing Countries – Swiss Re Analysis

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Big insurance companies are used to insuring big things — buildings, tunnels and bridges — against big catastrophes. As a consequence, most of their business is in advanced, wealthy economies, leaving the world’s most vulnerable underinsured and unprotected. J. Eric Smith, an executive at Swiss Re, explains how his industry is seeing good things happen by going small.

What do a billion-dollar hydropower plant and a farmer in Ethiopia have in common? They can both be wiped out by drought. However, only one of them can have the insurance to recover from it.

Developing countries spend less than 3% of GDP on insurance. In reality, many countries hardly have an insurance market to speak of.

The world’s large reinsurance companies — such as the company I work for, Swiss Re — are accustomed to mitigating risk on a very large scale, whether for bridges, tunnels, skyscrapers, massive floods or earthquakes. Our business is to spread the financial risk associated with these things all over the world.

By doing that, we ultimately help enable sustainable growth and resilience in communities around the globe. That is particularly important in this age of climate change and costly natural disasters.

And yet, there is something quite incongruent at the present stage: It is mostly clients in developed nations that seek the protection reinsurance provides. As a matter of fact, wealthy countries spend about 9% of their GDP on insurance cover, so they’re relatively well protected.

The comparison between developed and developing countries is stark, however. Developing countries spend less than 3% of GDP on insurance cover, and even that overstates the situation. In reality, many countries hardly have an insurance market to speak of.

This can have dramatic consequences for the livelihoods of the people involved. When Hurricane Katrina hit the U.S. Gulf Coast in August 2005, 2,000 people lost their lives. And the insurance industry paid out $70 billion — a record for a single event — a good portion of it coming from reinsurers like Swiss Re.

The year before Katrina, the Southeast Asian tsunami — one of the deadliest events in recorded history — killed over a hundred times more people in 14 countries. But insurers paid out 35 times less, approximately $2 billion.

This was a defining moment for us to really look for ways to end this inequity and to provide coverage for more people on this planet. The problem is that traditional insurance may not work in these vulnerable regions. But microinsurance can.

The Southeast Asian tsunami in 2004 killed over a hundred times more people than Hurricane Katrina, but insurers paid out 35 times less.

To see how, take the case Josette Lazzare. She is a working mother living near Les Cayes, Haiti. Josette has worked her way out of poverty. To provide for her family and keep a roof over her children’s heads, she took out a microloan to help her build and grow her small business, selling healthcare products.

That loan was provided by Fonkoze, the largest microfinance institution in Haiti. She started with a loan of about $30, ultimately ended up with a loan of over $1,000 — and then lost everything when a natural disaster hit.

She has been set back three separate times. Then, in the 2010 earthquake, she lost her husband. Without the ability to repay her loan, Josette is destined to fall back into poverty.

We see this play out time and again in countries where people are poor and susceptible to being hit with a natural catastrophe. It brought us to the question of how could we create insurance to help low-income populations on a scale and cost-benefit basis that was realistic.

Building Resilience

Swiss Re has been in business for almost 150 years — always insuring very big things. The new task became how to leverage all of that experience and apply it on a micro level. Eventually, a partnership between Swiss Re, the Rockefeller Foundation and Oxfam America kicked off in a village in Tigray, Ethiopia. The goal of the project was to help the village build resilience against their greatest risk: drought, and the resulting crop failure.

To begin making a difference on a global scale and removing the existing inequity of who benefits from insurance coverage, we needed to create a model that could be replicated in other regions. By coupling very practical risk-reduction measures, like harvesting rainwater, with insurance for extreme drought, our project aims to help stabilize the village economy and encourage long-term sustainable development.

The problem is that traditional insurance may not work in vulnerable regions in developing countries. But microinsurance can.

Working directly with farmers and the project partners, we adapted the concept of an insurance product that was originally designed for hydropower companies that wanted to hedge the risk of low precipitation rates. It works using a rainfall index. When rainfall is below a given level for a given period of time, it triggers a payment.

The Ethiopian project offers farmers this insurance in exchange for their work on risk-reduction measures in the village. In conjunction with insurance for extreme climate events, these measures — such as building better food storage facilities and using locally-produced fertilizers — help stabilize communities and encourage long-term sustainable development and adaption to climate changes.

This public-private partnership with the Ethiopian government is part of a public safety-net program that is addressing food insecurity. When the project started in 2009, there were zero insurance policies in the village. By the end of the first year, 200 people invested in them. A year later, it was 1,300. By the end of the third year, 13,000 had bought them across 45 villages in the area.

I realize that, in a country of 80 million people, 13,000 policies are a drop in the ocean. But look at it at the individual level — those 13,000 policies mean approximately 80,000 people benefit from insurance protection.

That is the power of microinsurance: Provide a villager with an insurance policy in these circumstances and you help enhance financial security as well as food security — and maybe even improve access to credit.

In the aggregate, it means building a more resilient, stable society, one in which families aren’t left destitute after a disaster. Over the next five years, the World Food Programme, the U.S. Agency for International Development, Oxfam America and Swiss Re have committed to a new project continuing the work in Ethiopia and bringing the model to three new countries. Approximately 520,000 people will end up benefiting.

Provide a villager with an insurance policy and you help enhance financial security as well as food security.

The Ethiopian project has proved to be a very valuable exercise, but the journey is far from over. Building resilient societies and discovering how we as a company and an industry can serve the poor in a sustainable way takes a lot of time and perseverance. And it can feel daunting.

Along the way, what makes the difference is something that often sounds trivial, but is a key measure of performance in the business world of the future: how to improve people’s lives, especially in underserved markets in developing countries. Ultimately, that is an important way to make the world more sustainable and equitable.

Our company has always worked to enhance society’s resilience. But the way the business was structured for many decades meant that we did not focus on serving the most vulnerable people in the most vulnerable countries.

That has now changed. While there is still a long road ahead, working to build resilient societies and serving the microclient in locations around the world will increasingly become an integral part of our normal course of doing business.

Ageing in the 21st Century

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The world is getting much older. Within 10 years, there will be 1 billion older people worldwide. This is not just a developed world phenomenon as this infographic shows. Increased longevity is a cause for celebration − older people contribute so much. It also presents a challenge if we are to maximize the potential of our ageing populations.

The Myth of the Israeli Passport Stamp Problem

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Reblogged from The Happy Hermit:

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When speaking to fellow travellers, globetrotters and Couchsurfers, I am always amazed how many people are afraid of visiting Israel - not because of Hamas' rockets from Gaza or because of suicide bombers, but because of a stamp in a passport. Guys, you are missing out on the most fascinating and interesting country in the world - for no reason.

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Guest Blogger Bob Metcalfe: Metcalfe's Law Recurses Down the Long Tail of Social Networks

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Reblogged from VCMike's Blog:

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The blogosphere has started bubbling some interesting discussion of how Metcalfe's Law applies to current Web 2.0 dynamics like social networking. Some IEEE types, Brad Feld, Niel Robertson, a PhD. student named Fred Stutzman, my partner Sim Simeonov, myself and a few others have posted on this in the last few weeks.

Bob Metcalfe, who invented the law in the first place and is my partner at Polaris (and who, along with Al Gore, invented the Internet...), offers his own view in a guest blog post below.

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Stop Instagramming Your Perfect Life

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I keep having the same conversation over and over. It starts like this: “I gave up Facebook for Lent, and I realized I’m a lot happier without it.” Or like this, “Pinterest makes me hate my house.” Or like this: “I stopped following a friend on Instagram, and now that I don’t see nonstop snapshots of her perfect life, I like her better.”

Yikes. This is a thing. This is coming up in conversation after conversation. The danger of the internet is that it’s very very easy to tell partial truths—to show the fabulous meal but not the mess to clean up afterward. To display the smiling couple-shot, but not the fight you had three days ago. To offer up the sparkly milestones but not the spiraling meltdowns.

I’m not anti-technology or anti-Internet, certainly, but I do think it’s important for us to remind ourselves from time to time that watching other peoples’ post-worthy moments on Facebook is always going to yield a prettier version of life than the one you’re living right now. That’s how it works.

WHEN YOU’RE WAITING FOR YOUR COFFEE TO BREW, THE MAJORITY OF YOUR FRIENDS PROBABLY AREN’T DOING ANYTHING ANY MORE SPECIAL. BUT IT ONLY TAKES ONE FRIEND AT THE EIFFEL TOWER TO MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE A LOSER.

My life looks better on the Internet than it does in real life. Everyone’s life looks better on the internet than it does in real life. The Internet is partial truths—we get to decide what people see and what they don’t. That’s why it’s safer short term. And that’s why it’s much, much more dangerous long term.

 

Because community—the rich kind, the transforming kind, the valuable and difficult kind—doesn’t happen in partial truths and well-edited photo collections on Instagram. Community happens when we hear each other’s actual voices, when we enter one another’s actual homes, with actual messes, around actual tables telling stories that ramble on beyond 140 pithy characters.

But seeing the best possible, often-unrealistic, half-truth version of other peoples’ lives isn’t the only danger of the Internet. Our envy buttons also get pushed because we rarely check Facebook when we’re having our own peak experiences. We check it when we’re bored and when we’re lonely, and it intensifies that boredom and loneliness.

When you’re laughing at a meal with friends, are you scrolling through Pinterest? When you’re in labor with your much-prayed-for-deeply-loved child, are you checking to see what’s happening on Instagram? Of course not. We check in with our phones when it seems like nothing fun is happening in our own lives—when we’re getting our oil changed or waiting for the coffee to brew.

It makes sense, then, that anyone else’s fun or beauty or sparkle gets under our skin. It magnifies our own dissatisfaction with that moment. When you’re waiting for your coffee to brew, the majority of your friends probably aren’t doing anything any more special.

But it only takes one friend at the Eiffel Tower to make you feel like a loser.

I’m a writer. I use Twitter and Facebook and Instagram and Pinterest and my blog as part of my professional life—as a way to connect with readers and be part of a conversation that we’re creating together, a conversation about creativity and faith and writing and parenting and community and life around the table. It’s a lovely conversation, and part of my work involves reading many blogs and commenting on lots of photos and scrolling through status after status.

Some days it feels rich and multi-faceted. I learn and I’m inspired. I find recipes I want to try and stories I want to live. I feel connected and thankful to be part of such an intelligent and creative internet community.

And then on some days, I feel like I have nothing to offer, like I must be the only one who isn’t a graphic designer and hasn’t yet managed to display her entire darling life online with lots of chevron and mint accents. I feel so certain that my life is a lot less darling than other peoples’ lives.

But that’s the Internet. The nature of it. I so easily fall prey to the seduction of other people’s partial truths and heavily filtered photos, making everything look amazing. And their amazing looking lives make me feel not amazing at all.

Let’s choose community. Let’s stop comparing. Let’s start connecting.

Some days when I sit down at my laptop, instead of choosing to be an observer via Facebook, I choose to be a friend via email. Instead of scrolling through someone else’s carefully curated images, I use those few seconds to send a text to a person I really know and really love and really want to be connected to.

It’s not about technology or not. I’m not suggesting you get all old-school-pen-and-paper about it (unless that’s your thing.) It’s about connecting instead of comparing. Instead of using the computer to watch someone else’s perfectly crafted life, enter into someone’s less-than-perfect life. You can use Facebook if you want, but you might find email, Skype and phone calls work better.

USING TECHNOLOGY TO BUILD COMMUNITY INSTEAD OF BUILDING CAREFULLY-CURATED IMAGES OF OURSELVES IS AN OPTION, AND A WORTHWHILE ONE.

The distinction I’m making is public vs. private, not in person vs. long distance. I have very close, very honest friendships that depend on phone calls and Skype dates and long wandering emails, and I’m thankful that technology allows for those connections. But I don’t think you can build transforming friendships that take place only in a public sphere like Facebook or Instagram.

 

For many of us, walking away from the Internet isn’t an option. But using it to connect instead of compare is an option, and a life-changing one. Using technology to build community instead of building carefully-curated images of ourselves is an option, and a worthwhile one.

And on the days when you peer into the screen of your laptop and all you see are other people’s peak experiences that highlight your lack in that moment, remember that life isn’t about the story you tell about yourself on the Internet. It’s about a million more beautiful and complex things than that, like love and faith and really listening. It’s about using what you’ve been given to craft a life of gratitude and passion and grace.

Remember that the very best things in life can’t be captured in status updates.

Credits : Relevant Magazine