1 Development projects from the inside out: Project

Development projects from the inside out: Project logic, organisational practices and human autonomy Mirtha R. MUÑIZ CASTILLO1 Pre‐final version of a 2014 paper in Journal of Human Development and Capabilities, 15(1), 79‐98

Abstract This article connects human development thinking to the operational realities of project de‐ sign and management. It explores how externally supported projects influence the local par‐ ticipants’ autonomy, considering that enhanced autonomy promotes long‐run development effectiveness. Evidence from four projects in Central America indicates that managers need to understand project logic well beyond a ‘logframe’. Project practices reveal the implicit real assumptions and affect the participants’ autonomy and the projects’ effectiveness and sus‐ tainability. The article examines the projects’ ‘full autonomy logic’ and explores the stakeholders’ as‐ sumptions and values. It looks not only at the expected changes but also at the actual felt changes in participants’ lives, based on organisational practices. When practices constrain the opportunities and felt competence of individuals to help themselves, the ‘development’ that is promoted is not sustainable. In contrast, project planners and managers should con‐ sciously select autonomy‐supportive practices to further sustainable human development. Keywords: Human development, autonomy, development effectiveness, project logic, organisational practices.

Introduction Human development refers to the expansion of people’s options to attain well‐reasoned chosen outcomes and therefore to lead their own lives. Externally supported projects usu‐ ally aim at extending the access to material resources by poor people. This certainly im‐ proves their options. However, do these projects also promote people’s capacity to help themselves, i.e. their capacity to undertake and maintain development initiatives and to secure improvements in their wellbeing, even after the projects are completed? This ques‐ tion leads us to think of the processes how a project is shaped during its life cycle. This article connects human development thinking to the operational realities of project design and management. The focus shifts from projects to people, i.e. the social actors who experience the change that should be supported by a project. It reflects on how externally supported projects can influence the autonomy of local participants, by examining the projects’ ‘full autonomy logic’, related to the various project theories that stakeholders form, including their assumptions and values. For this, it looks not only at the expected changes in terms of a project’s planned inputs, outputs and impacts (described in a logical framework or ‘logframe’ matrix), but also at the actual felt changes in participants’ lives, 1 Mirtha R. Muñiz Castillo is affiliated to the Maastricht Graduate School of Governance, United Nations Univer‐ sity, Maastricht, and associated with the Pontifical Catholic University of Peru (PUCP), Lima, Peru. A very pre‐ liminary version of this article was presented at the III Latin‐American and Caribbean Conference on the Hu‐ man Development and Capabilities Approach, hosted by Pontifícia Universidade Católica do Rio Grande do Sul, Porto Alegre, Brazil (November 2010). I especially thank Des Gasper for his thoughtful suggestions and sup‐ port. All views expressed and any errors remaining are my responsibility.

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based on what was done during the project and how it was done (i.e., the organisational practices). The article is based on evidence from four projects in rural communities of Nicaragua and El Salvador, two of water and sanitation and two of post‐disaster reconstruction, which were supported by the aid agency of Luxembourg between 1999 and 2005 (Muñiz Castillo, 2009a). Qualitative and quantitative data were collected from project documents, public reports, external statistics, stakeholders’ interviews, focus group discussions (FGDs), and two small questionnaire surveys. The objective of this article is to raise awareness of how organisational practices emerge during a project and their influence on the participants’ autonomy. For this, the article identifies the implicit assumptions and practices related to two important elements in the project designs: self‐construction activities by residing households and community par‐ ticipation in the projects. The article does not conclude on the overall influences for each project, as this analysis would require considering many more elements (see Muñiz Casti‐ llo, 2009a). The analysis indicates that project effectiveness and sustainability crucially depend on promoting, not inhibiting, human autonomy, and that this impact depends on the working practices and power relationships between project stakeholders. Practices of top‐down design and excessive conditionality (i.e., external incentives to control behaviour) can harm participants’ autonomy and felt competence and have negative longer‐run effects, undermining sustainability of the development promoted by the projects. The article first introduces a conception of human autonomy and presents a ‘Human Autonomy Effectiveness’ criterion for projects. Then, based on evidence from the four pro‐ jects in Nicaragua and El Salvador, it makes the case for looking at a project’s ‘full auton‐ omy logic’ and distinguishes between the stakeholders’ stated purposes and implicit as‐ sumptions, and the actual organisational practices. The influences of these practices on human autonomy, and thus the implications for long run effectiveness, are then explored in detail.

A conception of human autonomy Human development refers to the expansion of people’s attainable options to lead lives that they have reason to value (Sen, 1999). To lead a valuable life, people require ability to reflect about and to choose among alternative lifestyles. Moreover, capabilities are ‘what people are actually able to do and to be –in a way informed by an intuitive idea of a life that is worthy of the dignity of the human being’ (Nussbaum, 2000, p. 5). They implicitly refer to the opportunity to achieve something valuable. Specific contexts and psychosocial barriers affect capabilities and the effective ability to lead our own lives, which we can call ‘autonomy’. Building on the notion of ‘combined capability’ (Nussbaum, 2000; 2011), we can under‐ stand autonomy as reflecting both an internal reflective decision‐making ability (i.e. trained or developed characteristics of a person) and the external context that promotes or restricts opportunities for making and implementing decisions, and within which we, at best, negotiate our access to resources. Possessing autonomy, people can take action that will advance their valued objectives, according to their own conception of the good (Sen, 1985), if they so decide. Besides ability to reach valued outcomes, autonomy involves making meaningful decisions on significant aspects of one’s life (Taylor, 1999; Doyal and Gough, 1991; Kabeer, 1999), with authentic motivation –these decisions cohere with one’s inner values (Ekstrom, 1993) rather than result from coercion or heavy conditioning – and acceptance of respon‐

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sibility (Ryan and Deci, 2006). Such decisions result from reflective evaluation (Frankfurt, 1989). Considering these elements, human autonomy is a higher‐order combined capability. It is a person’s effective ability to make reasoned choices in significant matters, authentically motivated, and thereby to achieve positive results in his or her life. As for every capability, it is difficult to measure directly. At a practical level, autonomy can be analysed in terms of three determinants:2 (i) our effective access to resources or ‘entitlements’ (Sen, 1982; Devereux, 2001); (ii) an internal ability to make reasoned choices and act accordingly, which is called ‘personal agency’; and (iii) the socio‐structural contexts at different levels (Alexander, 1993). These three elements are interrelated; entitlements are in large part (but not only) a product of personal agency and socio‐structural contexts. We must differentiate ‘personal agency’ from Sen’s notion of agency. The concept used here refers to the person’s ability to reflect about, choose, and act purposively (Doyal and Gough, 1991; Alsop et al., 2006). This ability depends on one’s personal competence, tem‐ poral and causality orientations, personality and internalised cultural context (Muñiz Cas‐ tillo, 2009b). In these terms, a person can have personal agency but, due to unfavourable contexts, be unable to advance their goals, ‘to help themselves and to influence the world’ (Sen, 1999, p. 18). Causality orientation (Deci and Ryan, 1985; 2000) refers to the way the agent perceives the reasons used to act. Individuals can consider that they are originators of events (inter‐ nal reasons), that they behave as they are forced to (external reasons), or that whatever happens is independent of their intentions. An orientation of the first type is called ‘auton‐ omy causality orientation’. Socio‐structural contexts comprise the social relations, institutions and organisations, within which individuals negotiate their roles, meaning systems and entitlements. Con‐ texts can be autonomy‐supportive if they promote trust and encourage the process of choice, or controlling if they pressure behaviour toward specific outcomes (Deci and Ryan, 1987). The three determinants explain degrees of autonomy, which we cannot directly observe; by looking at changes in these determinants we can get an idea of changes in autonomy, even if the person has not made relevant decisions. Then, we must distinguish the capability (opportunity to choose and to achieve) from the functioning, which is the activity of qualified decision‐making. We can identify an exercise of autonomy according to the importance of the matters that are being decided, the causal‐ ity orientation shown, and the significant value of the available attainable outcomes, as judged in terms of the person’s motivations, goals and values. In addition, whether and to what extent we can reach our valued goals depends on several factors (many of them out of our control) and we typically act on our intentions in coop‐ eration with others. Autonomy then does not imply independence (Deci and Ryan, 2000); we engage in interdependent relationships during all our life, which partially define our identities and perspectives (cf., Devine et al., 2006). How can autonomy expand? We can judge that there is an expansion of autonomy when the determinants of autonomy (personal agency, entitlements and socio‐structural con‐ texts) improve and/or when people exercise their autonomy (cf. Doyal and Gough, 1991) in a way that fosters their current and future options.



2 This conceptual model of human autonomy is presented in Muñiz Castillo and Gasper (2012) and more fully

discussed in Muñiz Castillo (2009b).

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Human autonomy effectiveness Can we assess development projects using a criterion of promotion of human autonomy? Ellerman (2006) proposes ‘autonomy‐respecting help’, for which external assistance is helpful only when it respects, fosters and sustain the autonomy of the local people. Be‐ cause an autonomous action is based on internal or own motivation (i.e. an ‘autonomy causality orientation’), he asserts that external aid must follow an indirect approach: ‘to find and start with the existing own motivation of the doers and to supply help on that basis’ (p. 11). Then help focuses on changing background constraints and resources, not on supplying incentives to get people to do ‘the right thing’ as determined by outsiders, so that people can instead ‘help themselves’. Complementing this approach, Pick et al. (2011) emphasises that strengthening life skills and promoting the reduction of psychosocial bar‐ riers can be the basis for sustainable development. Pick and Sirkin (2010) describe work of Pick’s research institute in Mexico that has over many years developed programmes aiming at promoting autonomy both through their content, by teaching people relevant skills to foster their agency, and through their methodology, by opening safe opportunities for people to make their own decisions in situations of increasing complexity. Similarly, Doyal and Gough (1991) emphasise the importance of minimising social constraints for socially meaningful activities. Building on these insights, ‘Human Autonomy Effectiveness’ (HAE) is an interpretation of development effectiveness that looks at whether and how human autonomy has been ex‐ panded.3 There is an efficacy reason for emphasising this criterion: human development is more sustainable – i.e., leads to a sustained expansion of human capabilities and well‐ being – when people become better able to manage their lives (Sen, 1999). The HAE crite‐ rion shifts the focus from projects to people, i.e. the social actors who experience the change that should be supported by a project (cf. Crawford et al., 2005; Ellerman, 2006). Project goals must respect local needs and values (Chambers, 1995; Ellerman, 2006) and the strategies devised with those aims should be authentically motivated, instead of exter‐ nally imposed and controlled. Autonomy is not only an outcome variable in the analysis; it is crucial that participants are able to make some relevant decisions according to their capacities and values, and that these decisions and related actions are efficacious to some extent. If people consider that their decisions and corresponding (individual or group) actions have real positive out‐ comes, they will feel more confident in initiating actions for their own development – their ‘perceived agency’ influences their behaviour (Pick and Sirkin, 2010; Bandura, 2000). Fur‐ thermore, whatever the direct contributions to human development during a project’s life (e.g. improved health, acquisition of construction skills), a project that fails to build peo‐ ple’s autonomy during and through its processes is unlikely to lead to continuing post‐ project contributions to human development (Muñiz Castillo and Gasper, 2012). Hence, to apply this criterion, we must analyse both the outcomes and the processes of a project. For the outcomes, not only the intended linear causal links between a project and its objectives (expressed in a logframe matrix) matter. More important are the actual pro‐ ject effects on the lives, opportunities and capacities of participants. For the processes, what matter are the relationships and organisational practices (i.e. how things are done) that emerge during a project’s cycle and are jointly constructed by stakeholders with dif‐ ferent quotas of power; these affect participants’ motivation and autonomy in important ways.

3 It is worth noticing that HAE refers to the promotion of autonomy that supports human development (oppor‐ tunities enlargement and wellbeing improvement), not the achievement of all personal goals, as some could be opposed to each other or normatively contestable.

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To conclude about the extent of autonomy shown by project participants, one must iden‐ tify priority project processes valued by participants, the degree of choice that they could exercise (i.e. the extent of relevant and affordable alternatives), and whether they could be and were effectively involved (whether they were reasonably informed, were able to speak out and shared in relevant decision making during the project).

Data description and analysis perspectives This article relies on primary and secondary data from a larger research study (Muñiz Castillo, 2009a). The fieldwork took place during four months in 2005; there was a feed‐ back visit in July 2010. Primary data were collected from stakeholders’ interviews, focus group discussions (FGDs), and two small questionnaire surveys. Secondary data included project documents, public reports and external statistics. FGDs were crucial to understand contextualised perceptions of autonomy and change. Before, a short screening questionnaire was used to select FGD participants according to their degree of involvement (or quality of participation) in the project, through five ques‐ tions related to: awareness of personal competence and self‐confidence, access to relevant information, and whether the project context opened up opportunities to share in deci‐ sions and whether they actually shared in decisions.4 An ‘involvement index’ was calcu‐ lated as a simple average of ratings assigned to the previous questions, in a 0‐3 intensity scale (n=231). Later, a longer survey questionnaire was used to collect information from FGD participants about their socio‐economic situation, experiences during the projects, and intra‐community relationships (n=172). Non‐leaders and leaders were contacted separately. (Leaders are all those with positions which give them strong influence on their neighbours, e.g. a community association office‐holder, a school teacher or a priest.) Different analysis perspectives were used considering the research objectives. An induc‐ tive perspective supported the understanding of experiences of autonomy, values and power relationships in communities based on FGDs and interview transcripts. In contrast, a deductive perspective guided the analysis of influences on the determinants of auton‐ omy, based on diverse data sources. Data triangulation was crucial to assure reliability. A kind of analysis triangulation was used by introducing probes during the FGDs and inter‐ views in order to verify emerging patterns.

The four project cases The projects studied were executed between 1999 and 2005 with bilateral grant assis‐ tance from Luxembourg’s aid agency. They aimed at extending the access of households to infrastructure in water and sanitation (water projects) or housing and social services (post‐disaster reconstruction projects). The formal counterparts were the public water companies and the municipal governments, respectively. In most cases, the aid agency set up a project implementation unit (PIU) in the field, led by a foreign project chief. This unit coordinated the actions of subcontracted local private constructors, supervisors, and NGOs. For the water projects, the water companies were responsible for the supervision and execution of the water systems’ construction.



4 The questions of the screening questionnaire were: (1) Did you use your abilities or practical knowledge during the project?, (2) Did you give your opinions about the project to your community?, (3) Did you receive the relevant information you needed about the project?, (4) Did you have the opportunity to share in decisions related to the project?, and (5) How frequently did you share in decisions regarding the project? For every question, the possible answers were: ‘no’ with zero value, ‘rarely’ with one value, ‘sometimes’ with two value, and ‘usually’ with three value.

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Table 1: The four cases



Country Nicaragua El Salvador Santa Maria San Agustin Post‐disaster (tragedy caused by a mudslide) (disaster caused by earthquakes) reconstruction 05/1999 – 10/2001 10/2001 – 03/2005 Sector San Fernando Agua Fria Water and Sani‐ (deficit caused by Hurricane Mitch) (structural deficit) tation 09/2002 – 01/2005 10/2001 – 01/2004

Note: The cases have the names of the localities, not of the projects (some projects covered several localities). Reasons for the need of aid appear between parentheses. The project execution periods in the specific locali‐ ties are shown at the bottom of each cell.

Table 1 presents the cases. In the reconstruction case in Nicaragua, a mudslide fuelled by Hurricane Mitch in 1998 had wiped away towns situated near the slopes of the Casitas volcano, killing almost three‐quarters of the population. Survivors were relocated to the large farm Santa Maria bought by several donors. In the reconstruction case in El Salvador, two earthquakes in 2001 had wiped out houses and social infrastructure in San Agustin, which is one of the poorest municipalities. Comparing these cases, the disasters had differ‐ ent meanings. In Santa Maria, the disaster was an overwhelming ‘tragedy’, which sur‐ passed local organisational capacities. In San Agustin, it was an ‘opportunity’ because, when foreign aid arrived, community leaders were organised into a municipal committee and coordinated all reconstruction efforts. Regarding the water project cases, in San Fernando in Nicaragua, the drinking water sys‐ tem was badly damaged due to Hurricane Mitch, whereas, in Agua Fria in El Salvador, such a system was already lacking. Due to their socio‐historical experiences, with strong politi‐ cal divisions since the contra‐guerrilla war, San Fernando residents had no interest in pub‐ lic affairs. However, they highly valued this project that for the first time would benefit everyone. In contrast, in Agua Fria, there were formal community leaders with experience managing small projects and with remittance support from their families in the US. For years, they had searched for ways to get access to safe drinking water. The four localities are relatively small, each with between 350 and 500 households. How‐ ever, San Agustin and San Fernando are municipal centres (headquarters of the municipal government and the mayor), while Agua Fria is a canton and Santa Maria is a colony (can‐ tons are smaller parts of municipalities, and a colony is even smaller). In all four cases, before and after the projects, most households depended on agriculture activities despite the urban layout of some villages and the existence of seasonal migra‐ tion. More than half of the survey respondents regarded themselves as farmers. In order to support their farming, they would invest resources such as communal solidarity work, children’s work and remittances savings. They partially overcame shortage periods re‐ lated to the agriculture seasonality through migration, housemaid work or petty trade activities. In 2005, most households lived in monetary poverty. The poorest were the Santa Maria households, with about 72% living in extreme poverty (according to survey data collected during the fieldwork), as direct consequence of the 1998 tragedy. The least poor were the Agua Fria households, with about 17% living in extreme poverty. Below, we will explore some particular features of these projects, in a comparative way, investigating why projects in the same sector and with similar design may influence the autonomy of participants differently.



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Post‐disaster reconstruction projects The post‐disaster reconstruction projects were complex. In terms of tangible outputs, both projects provided houses, schools, water service and social infrastructure (individually or with other projects). Hence they supported crucial needs related to physical security, health, relatedness and recreation, among others. The main difference concerned project management. In Santa Maria, a NGO was hired to manage this project and two other pro‐ jects funded by different donors. In San Agustin, a working group, formed by the project chief, two municipal committee members, and one representative of each partner NGO, was the main decision maker. In addition, they addressed differently two aspects important to participants: legal owner‐ ship of the houses, and productive activities to support their livelihoods. Table 2 shows the projects’ officially stated objectives. Table 2: Officially stated objectives in ‘logframe’ matrices of the reconstruction projects Objective

Santa Maria (Nicaragua)

San Agustin (El Salvador)

Overall goal To contribute to the economic and so‐ cial rehabilitation of 350 households victims of the hurricane Mitch.

To contribute to the reduction of the vul‐ nerability of the population of the munici‐ pality of San Agustin.

Outcomes

To rehabilitate and/or to build basic family and social infrastructure, propitiating the integral, sustainable and participatory de‐ velopment.

1. 350 households have again a roof. 2. 350 households restart their eco‐ nomic activities.

Output

1.1. 350 households relocated.

1. 438 households have a housing solution of approx. 50 m2 within a 24‐month period.

Output

2.1. One community centre constructed 2. Every property is legalised and regis‐ and functioning. tered.

Output

2.2. One school constructed and func‐ tioning.

3. Several social buildings and facilities are built, reconstructed and/or equipped.

Output

2.3. Peasant families restart their pro‐ ductive activities.

4. The labour, organisation and manage‐ ment capacities of social actors and benefi‐ ciaries are improved.

Output

2.4. Household members manage the psychological sequels of hurricane Mitch.

5. The municipality government has an integral development plan.

Source: Muñiz Castillo (2009a).

First, the San Agustin project developed a model of ‘integral legalisation’: It financed all the legal procedures to get the house deeds for residents. This required, sometimes, getting national identity cards for undocumented citizens and, frequently, registering property titles of informally owned lands before the start of the construction works. In contrast, the Santa Maria project gave the property of the farm to the municipality government, who was supposed to divide and transfer this land to households only two years after the pro‐ ject completion. By 2005, four years after completion, this had not happened and residents did not feel secure. Second, the Santa Maria project supported a small agricultural project in a piece of com‐ mon land, even before the start of the construction activities, but this project only worked during the first two years. In San Agustin, the project did not support any productive ini‐ tiative, although residents had identified possible projects in a municipal development plan. These facts reflect the projects’ different emphases: Santa Maria centred on house‐ holds and how they needed an economic activity to mend their lives (an intended project

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output was the restart of their economic activities), while San Agustin centred on local institutions and supported the management skills of social and political leaders so that they could open up opportunities to residents and thus promote an integral, sustainable and participatory development.

Water and sanitation projects The two water projects seemed similar, considering their intended officially stated objec‐ tives (see Table 3). However, the Agua Fria project focused on providing access to safe drinking water, while the San Fernando project focused on assuring a good‐quality drink‐ ing water service because residents were dissatisfied with the public water service they had previously received. Table 3: Officially stated objectives in ‘logframe’ matrices of the water projects Objective

Agua Fria

San Fernando

Overall goal

To contribute to the improvement of the health and living conditions of the inhabitants

To contribute to the improvement of the health and living conditions of the inhabi‐ tants

Outcome

To provide a stable access to drinking water service and to improve the envi‐ ronmental conditions.

To improve the drinking water service and the sanitation and environmental condi‐ tions.

Output 1

A drinking water network is created and put into operation.

A permanent and good‐quality drinking water service.

Output 2

At least 90% of households have At least 80% of households have means to means to dispose of and purify residual dispose of residual water. water.

Output 3

Around 80% of households have a latrine adapted to local conditions.

Each house has a latrine or a toilet with a septic tank.

Output 4

The population is sensitised to the “water and environment” issue and hence, the communal organisation is improved.

The communal organisation is strength‐ ened and the population is sensitised to the “water, health and environment” issue.

Output 5

Activities of natural resources conser‐ vation and awareness actions to im‐ prove integral agriculture practices.

A process for protecting the water re‐ source, through reforestation activities in micro‐basins, and for managing solid wastes is prompted.

Source: Muñiz Castillo (2009).

In terms of tangible outputs, both projects provided domiciliary water connections, re‐ quired home sanitation systems from households, financed latrines and organised training sessions to build small infrastructure or promote change in hygiene habits. In addition, the Agua Fria project financed ecological wood stoves for households, promoted diverse re‐ forestation and soil protection activities, and supported the construction of a reservoir. Regarding contexts, the projects faced uncertainty about the authority, powers and duties of municipality governments (including because decentralisation processes were under‐ way) and about reforms in the water sector. However, the Agua Fria project was also af‐ fected by governance problems within the water company (which faced accusations of corruption, internal restructuring, and high staff rotation) and an adverse micro‐level po‐ litical context. These several challenges hurt the operational effectiveness of the project,

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already too complex in its design, which increasingly became a ‘pseudo‐comprehensive’ project (Hirschman, 1967/1995).5

Implicit assumptions on ‘mechanisms’ of change A logframe matrix describes a project’s official logic. It shows the posited causal links be‐ tween its different levels of objectives (if A occurs, then B will happen) and the assump‐ tions or risk factors related to aspects external to the project (contexts), for each level. However, it does not explain how the project is expected to reach those objectives. From the view of planners, this is crucial because project management has only (relative) con‐ trol of the achievement of project outputs and these may not translate into the foreseen and intended outcomes (near‐term effects) and impacts (long‐term effects). In fact, change is influenced by several actors’ actions, non‐project factors and complex interactions of several factors. Alternatively put, a project’s implied theory of change includes the behavioural ‘mecha‐ nisms’ that would lead to its expected outcomes and intended impacts in the particular setting (Pawson and Tilley, 1997; Leeuw, 2003; Rossi et al., 2004). (‘B follows from A be‐ cause [an implicit principle or assumption]’) Hence, project planners and managers tend to introduce beliefs or assumptions about ‘what works’ by promoting certain organisa‐ tional practices, i.e. forms of interaction and practical strategies. These assumptions are usually neither explicit nor justified; they are taken for granted. However, project stake‐ holders may have their own theories of change, related to their valued objectives and (po‐ litical, economic and social) interests in the project (Leeuw, 2003). Hence, project manag‐ ers will want to enrol individuals, groups or organisations with whom they directly inter‐ act (‘boundary actors’; Earl et al., 2002) in ‘their’ project (Mosse, 2005). Finally, the prac‐ tices that prevail will result from power dynamics in specific contexts and from (hidden) interests of stakeholders. The four projects had two important design similarities: (i) self‐construction activities by an important part of the resident households (who contributed mainly as assistant brick‐ layers) and (ii) the participation of community organisations, although to different degrees. In the reconstruction projects, one member of each household worked in a small team (between five and six people) during two or three months as an assistant bricklayer to build his or her house. In the water projects, each household built its autonomous sanita‐ tion system, assembled its latrine with the guidance of bricklayers and performed other works; participants attended training sessions in groups (between 25 and 40 people) and then worked in teams. In all project cases, community organisations usually worked with social promoters to mobilise their neighbours and supervise activities. Both elements in the project designs, self‐construction and community participation, indi‐ cate that planners considered participation as valuable, even though the kind of participa‐ tion was not explicit in all cases. These features were based on strong assumptions made early on by project designers. These partly tacit assumptions were identified through the analysis of project documents and fieldwork data.



5 A ‘pseudo‐comprehensive’ project has a design that covers a wide range of things. It pretends to more insight than is actually available and creates the illusion that the experts have already found the answers to the pro‐ blems. However, at the end, it only partially achieves its goals. When it fails, its implementation not its design is blamed (Hirschman, 1967/1995, p. 22‐3).

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Assumption 1: The manual work of beneficiaries favours their ownership The participation of households in project activities was expected to support the projects’ operational efficacy because they would bring the interest that only an owner not a third‐ party has, to carry out and monitor on‐site activities. This idea was present in project de‐ sign reports: ‘Part of the works will be carried out via self‐construction, with the participation of beneficiaries, in order to assure their ownership of the project in the long‐term.’ (LD, 1999, p. 8) ‘The promotion team in charge of the [sanitation] component will have to respect the principles used to date: construction thanks to the mutual help mechanism and the durability of the solutions...’ (LD, 2001a, p. 30) Moreover, manual work was seen as a local contribution to the project budgets and a sig‐ nal of commitment: ‘each party has to contribute something to reach the objective’ (LD, 2001a, p. 39). Nonetheless, ownership was not related only to the workload, but could have been nega‐ tively affected by the conditionality practices (see next section) devised to promote ‘par‐ ticipation’. Participation of this sort did not always promote individual autonomy. Below, are three arguments why the assumption was too simple and unconditional. First, felt ownership depends on the importance of the need addressed by the project. Resi‐ dents accepted to work to get a house or a water connection because they valued physical security and health. For instance, they wanted ‘to make [their] houses beautiful’ (a man in Nicaragua) and worked very hard because ‘otherwise, [they] could not afford a house like that one’ (a woman in Nicaragua). Participants in the water projects valued having or re‐ gaining access to safe drinking water, but they did not value other project outputs as much. A man in El Salvador explained: They planned the reforestation project. In winter, they sowed trees and watered them. But, in summer, how were they going to water? They did not obtain any bene‐ fit but spent money. He perceives that the lack of sustainability of the reforestation activities was a loss for outsiders (‘they’), not for him or his neighbours. Second, participation has a broader meaning than manual work. In all four cases, survey respondents reported relatively low levels of involvement in the projects (mean value=1.2, for the involvement index in a 0‐3 scale). However, they qualified their participation as ‘fair’ (in an ordinal scale: low, fair and high) because they ‘attended all the meetings’, ‘could do everything that was required’, or ‘had to work and contribute in everything’. It seems that they understood participation in terms of workload or to what extent they worked in project activities as agreed. Not surprisingly, the survey respondents in the re‐ construction projects felt they had participated more than those in the water projects: 41% versus 27% of respondents, respectively, regarded their participation as high. How‐ ever, reconstruction project participants did not feel more involved than water project participants (the values of the involvement index for the four projects statistically behaved in similar ways).6 Manual work was not translated into high felt involvement and com‐ mitment. When people felt to have been more involved, this was mainly related to the

6 The average values of the involvement index were 1.26 for Santa Maria, 1.17 for San Agustin, 1.11 for San

Fernando and 1.31 for Agua Fria. The Kruskal‐Wallis one‐way analysis of variance by ranks indicates that data of the four projects would show similar distribution (p = 0.249, for Chi‐squared with ties). See Siegel and Castellan (1988, p. 206‐212).

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awareness of having used their personal skills during the project (Muñiz Castillo, 2009a, p. 272). Third, felt ownership is rooted in personal conviction. People with ‘autonomy causality ori‐ entation’ (who feel originators of events and not driven by external forces) want to be involved in decisions that affect their lives, not only to work hard to implement decisions. This interest is a signal of felt ownership, which is not created by projects but only sup‐ ported or not supported by them (de Valk et al., 2005; Ellerman, 2006).

Assumption 2: A formal community organisation assures the sustainability of effects It was expected that the existence of formal community organisations and their participa‐ tion in project activities would improve the sustainability of positive outcomes. A water project design report said: ‘To assure the durability of the project effects, the partners [NGOs] will take charge of organising and advising local committees…. The participation of local population… will be promoted and considered a guarantee for the durability of the actions.’ (LD, 2001a, p. 33) In the two water projects, organisations were crucial to raise awareness of the project benefits related to health and environment (‘Output 4’ in Table 3) and to assure the par‐ ticipation of residents in planned project activities. Hence, the project logics linked opera‐ tional efficacy to sustainability of outcomes. Below, we consider three arguments to ana‐ lyse this possible link. First, the way how these organisations are formed or supported makes a difference. In San Fernando, project staff started new local committees from scratch, not considering the existing but dispersed interest groups. In Agua Fria, project staff worked with existing local committees and encouraged new ones. In San Fernando, project staff promoted the participation of women in the committees considering their important role to change hygiene habits and sanitation practices at home (LD, 2002, p. 61). The women felt compelled to accept the duty in order to keep the pro‐ ject, despite their initial resistance to participate in public affairs. A group of female lead‐ ers expressed: ‘The project was not gone because we stuck together’. The committees were supported by the municipal mayor. Nevertheless, their influence was short‐lived. When the water issue was solved, other matters and actors occupied the local scene.7 In Agua Fria, an initial impasse between project formulators and the mayor led to the separation of the latter from project activities. Sadly, project implementers were unable to promote agreement in this context (already complex due to problems within the public water company). Although project staff supported the creation of a NGO formed by leaders from the three local committees, the municipality government did not approve its registra‐ tion. A woman reflected: The mayor did not help us. He attended the first meetings in Agua Fria, but he got annoyed… When he realised that [he could not] manage the project, he did not at‐ tend the meetings anymore. They [leaders] did all the arrangements, but we lacked his signature to form the community association, which is very important for the community. He said he did not know us. Facing a difficult country context and, probably, trying to avoid local political influence, project staff focused on producing the specified operational outputs, with a ‘tunnel vision’. By opting for the donor, instead of the local political authority, leaders secured the realisa‐ 7 Toward the end of the project, two former committee members participated in the municipal development committee but, during the feedback visit in 2010, these women had returned to their daily chores at home.

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tion of the water project, but seriously limited their future options. Unintendedly, the pro‐ ject reduced the options of residents to pursue their own development. Second, sustainability should refer to outcomes valued by project participants not only to project outcomes. Relatedly, when participants are not involved in project processes (do not have high‐quality participation), the project outcomes are also at risk. In Agua Fria, leaders could not assure the sustainability of the positive outcomes in health and sanitation. They were confused about the use of the home sanitation systems. A man leader explained: I do not know very well how to use it [the soak‐away pit]. Some people say that it is useful to water [plants]; others say it is to be infiltrated… When it is left for a long time, it has bad odour and we have to wash it. If they had made some decisions (e.g. adapting those systems to the quality of their ter‐ rains) and understood their importance, they could have sustained positive impacts. One year after the project was completed, people did not use the sanitation systems properly and there were puddles of grey water again in the street. Third, ‘sustainability’ is not only a declarative outcome. Project staff must manage for sus‐ tainability. In San Agustin, the project design report showed this awareness: ‘Development targets not only the community, but also other actors of the mu‐ nicipality: the local government, the municipal development committee, the local neighbourhood committees, etc. The purpose is to create links between stake‐ holders to take advantage of the energy created by the necessity… and to increase the joint levels of collaboration.’ (LD, 2001b, p. 33) The project chief worked for the fulfilment of crucial explicit assumptions in the logframe to reach project outputs and outcomes (on stakeholders’ good disposition to participate and local authorities’ willingness to let the association negotiate and manage projects freely). He acted as a catalyst; he supported leaders in building relations with formal insti‐ tutions and in making joint decisions in the project’s working group. Moreover, a local NGO, known to leaders since 1999, developed a function of ‘social intermediation’ (Ben‐ nett et al., 1996, cited in Thorp et al., 2005, p. 912). Hence, through their community asso‐ ciation, San Agustin residents saw expansion of their opportunities to better their own lives.

Organisational practices and their influences on human autonomy ‘Practices’ are the forms of interaction and the practical strategies carried out by social actors; they evolve in and reflect specific contexts and are manifested in several ways (Long and van der Ploeg, 1994). Identifying project practices helps us to understand how a particular project works, how different it is from others, and what makes it to work in a given way (Pawson and Tilley, 1997). A project’s practices, relationships and contexts characterise and reveal its uniqueness (see Figure 1), even if we compare projects with similar design and organisational structure.



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Figure 1: Project factors that influence the participants’ autonomy Activities (What?)

SHORT AND LONG-TERM EFFECTS

Practices (How?) Relationships (With whom?) Contexts (Where?)

INPUTS

OUTPUTS

Note: The straight arrows depict the direct relationship between inputs, activities, outputs, and short and long-term effects. The dotted lines indicate unintended or indirect effects.



Source: Muñiz Castillo (2010)

In contrast to the usual meaning of project logic (centred on project goals), applying the HAE criterion implies to distinguish between: a project’s expected autonomy logic and a project’s full autonomy logic (Muñiz Castillo and Gasper, 2012). The first type of logic iden‐ tifies the foreseen effects of a project on human autonomy considering its formal design, explicit in the original logframe and subsequent project documents, and implicit assump‐ tions. It’s important to raise awareness of the fact that although projects do not aim at promoting human autonomy, they will have positive or negative effects on it. The second type of logic, full autonomy logic, identifies the possible (direct and indirect) influences of a project on human autonomy considering also the ‘de facto’ practices and social relationships during a project. They may affect the achievement of project outputs. Most importantly, practices could affect the subjective basis of autonomy, i.e. the causality orientation of participants, depending on the kind of participation during the project. This interpretation of project logic will lead us to understand how participants experience the project. It is the project logic not as written in documents but as lived and felt by partici‐ pants; it’s jointly constructed by different stakeholders (Muñiz Castillo and Gasper, 2012). In relation to the assumptions recently identified, we can distinguish two types of prac‐ tices: conditionality and participatory design. They affected local participants’ autonomy in different ways, not necessarily anticipated in the projects’ blueprint, but fundamental to the projects’ effectiveness and sustainability.

Practice 1: Conditionality practices linked to manual work For most non‐leaders, manual work in project activities became perceived as a strong condi‐ tion to benefit from the projects. The participants’ perception of work commitments re‐ flects their degree of internalisation (Ryan and Deci, 2006), that is, to what extent they can find internal reasons for their manual work so that they feel that this work is important and originated by them (i.e. if they have ‘autonomy causality orientation’). Table 4 shows possible cases.



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Table 4: Possible interpretations of work commitments during the projects Possible cases A condition imposed by an external entity that has to be fulfilled, independently of their opinions.

Statements ‘We had to do it’. ‘Our opinions were not taken into account’. ‘They decided for us’.

The fulfilment of an agreement ‘It was our contribution’. to achieve a valued goal, but ‘I did everything that was they are doing what are sup‐ asked for’. posed to do.

The fulfilment of an agreement ‘We did not leave the project to that brings happiness and decay’. pride because they are making ‘San Agustin for San Agustin.’ an effort to improve their own lives.

The fulfilment of an agreement ‘We learned a lot and had a lot whose process (the work) they of joy in the community’. are enjoying. ‘It is like the group gives strength, the union helps one to feel relieved’. They engaged with people ‘bigger than them’.

Interpretation No internalisation. Participants felt they were working for someone else, not for them‐ selves. Some people in Santa Maria experienced this. Activities linked to this agree‐ ment became obligations. Participants in water projects worked in everything re‐ quested (e.g., sanitation sys‐ tems, wood stoves) in order to get the valued output: water. People are committed because they ‘have in sight’ the valued outcome. They are doing what is in reach to help their community, with intrinsic motivation (Ellerman, 2006). Most people in San Agustin and some in Santa Maria felt this. Intrinsic motivation linked to the process (Ryan and Deci, 2000). Many women in the water projects felt this. They shared time in training sessions, or‐ ganised themselves (e.g., a garbage carnival in San Fer‐ nando) or told their experience to other people (e.g., field trips in Agua Fria).

Nevertheless, Ellerman (2006) notes that the internalisation of conditioned change only occurs in exceptional cases (resulting from self‐reflection) because ‘autonomy must ema‐ nate from oneself and can therefore only be facilitated by contextual events’ (Deci and Ryan, 1987, p. 1027). Working in reconstruction projects was difficult given the numerous needs and the strongly controlling contexts. Construction supervisors exerted much pressure on partici‐ pants, inducing them to deliver tangible outputs in a given timeframe, with rigid daily work schedules. Only the relatively more affluent residents could hire someone to work on their behalf. Moreover, the work required physical strength. Some lands were loamy; participants had to stabilise the lands and dig deep to put solid foundations. In San Agustin, people who did not own a piece of land before the earthquakes and would later live in the human settle‐ ments (built on donated lands) worked longer, more than two years, and harder.8 Unfor‐ tunately, relief (food) aid was cut off during the projects and people had to find alternative ways to make a living.

8 They first protected the lands, built terraces because the lands were not horizontal, improved the hillsides, built contention walls, and carried the materials in this difficult geography. After the houses were constructed, they paved the access road and worked in a small water project (for this last work they were paid).

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This heavy workload restricted the participants’ time to participate in other socially mean‐ ingful activities and, most crucially for the poorest, their time to secure their own subsis‐ tence (cf., Osti, 2004). A man in El Salvador recalled: ‘Here, one felt that one was not going to earn for oneself… One worked here and down there [in the plot]… I felt that it was a lot [of work]’. A woman added: ‘[this house] cost quite some sacrifice to everyone’. The situa‐ tion was worse for single mothers who did not have anyone to help them (about 40% of households in Santa Maria and San Agustin were led by women); a woman explained: ‘Some days we stood being hungry… and our children walked behind us…’. This situation had direct negative effects on their autonomy. However, similar practices had different effects in project sites. In San Agustin, residents trusted a charismatic and engaging project chief and the donor that had funded a water project in the zone. Despite legal delays in construction works, the residents of San Agustin knew in advance the design and quality of their houses and trusted the project. With their manual work, most people felt that they were fulfilling a commitment, ‘having in sight’ the valued outcome. In contrast, in Santa Maria, inhabitants did not feel support from either their community leaders, who faced divisions that led to the existence of two competing associations to‐ ward the end of the project, or the executing NGO, which experienced management prob‐ lems thus causing uncertainty about crucial project features. They perceived that their work became a commodity to be provided uniformly. A woman leader recalled the strict control of workdays, which she considered unfair: We never received any payment; we worked two months and fifteen days… They de‐ leted the days [in the records] because either they made mistakes in the listings or they said that [we] had played clever. Moreover, there were problems between the social promoter and participants, and some ‘disciplinary norms’ were taken to organise and control participation (Muñiz Castillo, 2009a, p. 124). For many, motivation that was originally internal became externalised; the commitment became an obligation for which they did not receive a payment. That feeling of conditionality linked to manual work was aggravated by particular circum‐ stances, as illustrated by the following two cases: the agricultural project in Santa Maria and the home sanitation systems in the water projects. First, in Santa Maria, a small agricultural project started before the housing construction (when people were living in temporary camps) aiming at supporting residents whose live‐ lihoods were broken by the disaster. In fact, when donors bought the farm for survivors, they divided it in two areas: one for houses and social infrastructure (20 ha.) and the other for agriculture activities (41 ha.). This second area would be of common tenancy and par‐ ticipants were supposed to work in a cooperative way, with a revolving fund. Further‐ more, this project was linked to a ‘food‐for‐work programme’. A man recalled: We were sent to those lands to sow rice and to plant stumps… We sowed rice and sugarcane… We had several parcels of maize. Whoever worked had the right to re‐ ceive food. However, participants had failed experiences with cooperative models and would have preferred bigger individual lots to cultivate and to raise farm animals (‘we have a roof but we do not have a space to work, to sow’, a man said), i.e. they did not value that way of work. Certainly, they needed to start sowing and their only chance to survive was to work there in exchange of food. Motivation was extrinsic. There were positive short‐term results, but a severe drought and management problems troubled the project (people suspected leaders of badly handling resources). Finally, resi‐ dents parcelled out the communal land; only a few people, with the support of a local church, continued working together. In general, lack of interest in common ventures sub‐

15

sisted because ‘[t]here, everything gets lost’ (a woman). During the fieldwork, a man re‐ marked signalling at the former common land: ‘Those green fields should be watered, [but] no one does anything’. Second, in the water projects, each household had to build a home sanitation system in order to get its private water connection, either with their own funds (in Agua Fria) or with project funds (San Fernando). This was a matter of public health: home sanitation systems make grey waters (wastewater from kitchens, lavatories and bathrooms) infil‐ trate to the soil and not stay on the surface contaminating the environment and attracting mosquitoes. However, many home sanitation systems in both water projects have not worked well. A man in San Fernando described: The water infiltrates in one place, not in other places. The water pours out and smells; we cannot stand it at home so that we throw that water away. Right now, there are [soak‐away] pits that are full, pouring out; we cannot use them…9 Some participants stated that they knew in advance these systems would not work, but they were not given any option to make design changes that would suit their reality be‐ cause ‘when a project is already defined, it has to be done’ (an NGO coordinator in El Sal‐ vador). Although one reason for the mal‐functioning of the systems may be related to the soil quality and geography of some localities, another reason may be their inadequate use and maintenance, as a woman leader explained: If the soak‐away pit is not washed or cleaned, there is mosquito... There is mosquito even in clean water if the soak‐way pit is not covered. The problem is the cleaning. The lack of interest of some people who perceived sanitation systems only as a duty could explain this. The situation was worse in Agua Fria because they had to buy the materials to build something they did not value. In San Fernando, delays in the project execution ex‐ plained that workshops focused more on how to build the systems than on why to have them. In sum, when people do not use and maintain the systems well, they tend to blame the quality of the systems’ design and not themselves. Additionally, in San Fernando, there was a chain of conditions. Water and latrines (both highly valued) were only provided on the condition that people construct sanitation sys‐ tems and attend training sessions. Without a genuine interest, it is possible that some peo‐ ple forgot or did not later apply what they had learned during those sessions. In any case, the positive effect of home sanitation systems on the participants’ health was lower than expected. Which effects did conditionality practices have on human autonomy? First, we must highlight the positive effect of manual work in personal agency: partici‐ pants became aware of latent capacities or developed new ones. They learned (hard and soft) skills, which they could apply later. Some men could work in other constructions and earn some money thanks to their role of bricklayer assistants during the projects. The ef‐ fect was higher in San Agustin where the project trained local bricklayers, carpenters, elec‐ tricians and welders. In all project cases, but especially in San Fernando, women learned to organise themselves and expressed their opinions to others which could allow them a higher social participation. Moreover, women worked side by side with men thus gaining their respect. A woman reflected: ‘It is like the group gives strength, the union helps one to feel relieved’. They also felt more self‐confident because they learned, enjoyed and worked together for the well‐being of their families and community. Furthermore, being part of a larger group, they are now able to reach more (they have developed ‘collective capabili‐ ties’; Ballet et al., 2007). 9 The standard home sanitation system used in the projects was composed of a grease trap and a soak‐away

pit, which was a hole filled with stones, used for infiltration of wastewater.

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However, this positive effect was undermined in terms of autonomy when practices exter‐ nalised motivation (so that people felt they were working for someone else, not for them‐ selves), leading to a reduced operational efficacy in some cases (e.g. the failed agricultural project and the mal‐functioning home sanitation systems), or when practices restricted the participants’ options for alternative meaningful activities (i.e., contracting other prior‐ ity capabilities; see Alkire, 2002). In addition, in the case of Santa Maria, people had access to land for agriculture activities but they had to use it in a specific way: planting together as a cooperative. Hence, by de‐ sign, the project gave participants the access but not the entitlement to land: they did not have command over it; they could not use it freely as its own. The added condition in the food‐for‐work programme could have externalised the motivation of people who did value the joint work.

Practice 2: Participatory design in the light of ’community participation’ The participation of local stakeholders in the design of a project could vary from merely being informed to jointly defining the main aspects of the project (Arnstein, 1969). The four projects included participatory design activities, but these differed across cases, de‐ pending on the type of project, the type and experience of community organisations, the social and political context, and the motivations of potential beneficiaries. Certainly the type of project was crucial. The leaders in the water projects were less in‐ volved than their peers in the reconstruction projects because their goals were narrower and the technical aspects added complexity. However, in both water cases, residents were invited to participatory design workshops to talk about their needs. Regarding community organisations, the municipal development committee in San Agustin was the strongest of all. It was formed by representatives of each rural canton committee and members of the municipal centre’s neighbourhood committees. It was supported by a local NGO and had just finished a development ‘action’ plan when the earthquakes struck. Furthermore, residents had benefited from a water project and they were living a process of reconciliation: people from different political affiliations (former guerrilla and former army fighters, former cooperative members) and religious beliefs were part of this committee. Hence, at the time of the project formulation, the municipal committee was ready to lead the reconstruction efforts. In Agua Fria, the existing communal development association had more organisational experience and was managing two gravity (untreated) water systems that covered a small part of the population. Leaders had actively searched for ways to get access to safe drink‐ ing water; including having contacted the municipality government and the public water company. In contrast, in Santa Maria, the magnitude of the disaster exceeded the capacities and re‐ sources of the municipality government. A survivors’ association that was in control of the camps before the project became the local counterpart. In San Fernando, there was no a formal municipal organisation, while most residents had no interest in public affairs and were incredulous about the project. As Table 5 shows, only in San Agustin did community leaders make relevant design deci‐ sions. They supported the self‐construction modality called ‘directed mutual help’ with the reasoning that (i) working together was a way to build solidarity in a town where previ‐ ously people ‘did not trust even in their relatives’ (a man leader) and a proof of commit‐ ment to their own development, and (ii) hiring local skilled manual workers for the largest possible number of activities could keep the money flowing in the municipality.



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Table 5: Participation of community organisations by project at the design stage

Post‐disaster reconstruction projects



Water and sanitation projects

San Agustin

Santa Maria

Agua Fria

San Fernando

Type of locality

Municipal centre

Colony

Canton

Municipal centre

Type of organi‐ sation

Municipal devel‐ opment committee (including local committees).

Self‐nominated leaders organ‐ ised in a survi‐ vors’ association.

Communal devel‐ opment associa‐ tion (including neighbourhood committees).

No formal or‐ ganisation (only disperse interest groups).

Participation during project design

High extent of decision‐making.

Medium extent of decision‐making.

Received infor‐ mation and were consulted.

None.

Formal local leaders defined the selection criteria, the model and materials of the houses, and the social infrastructure to be built. They even selected the partner institutions, i.e. the construction firm and the contracted NGOs. A former president of the municipal develop‐ ment committee explained: People have their house and they know how they have their house, because they were allowed to choose how they wanted their house. In Santa Maria, the survivors’ association had an active role during the emergency, but after many discussions and a ‘parade’ of donors, decisions on project design were top‐ down. Regarding the crucial decision of house design, a woman recounted: We chose among the three [house] models… we were considerate and chose that one in the middle… but they [the engineer and bricklayers] made the worst, the one that they wanted. Three designs were sequentially presented to beneficiaries, but their choice was not re‐ spected. Hence, consulting people about the house design did not promote ownership, it was rather disempowering. Participants realised how their houses were going to look, only when the construction works started. The managing NGO made the relevant design decisions. The leaders in Agua Fria were only consulted over taking up the project as designed, but this decision was still very significant to them. They reflect on the positive effects of this decision especially every time they watch the living conditions of residents of a nearby town who did not accept the project and later ‘were regretting’ their choice (a man leader). In the workshop, although residents commented on several issues, the discussion was distorted by the perception of likely project deliverables (cf., Mosse, 2004; 2005). A report of a contracted NGO said: ‘The participation of the residents was limited in quantity and quality. The diag‐ nosis [discussion] was steered toward the activities of the project, [and it was] perceived like a promotion of its activities. In other words, the residents did not have options on what to discuss’ (cited in Muñiz Castillo, 2009a, p. 158). However, as the project progressed, leaders could implement their idea to use the project reservoir to raise fish – originally the reservoir was planned only to collect rain water dur‐ ing the winter to water cattle in summer. This situation signals that local actors can find ways to reshape a project, if they find it valuable; they can create ‘room for manoeuvre’ (Long, 1992, p. 36) and hence, exercise their autonomy (cf. Drydyk, 2006). The leaders

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invested in this project and people agreed with a communal management. Sadly, the pro‐ ject failed because the adult fish were stolen. In San Fernando, (non‐leader) formulation activities were not taken seriously; the census organised to identify needs did not collect reliable information as residents did not trust a project would actually start. Was there any relation between participatory design practice and human autonomy? Only in the case of San Agustin, was there a positive influence on human autonomy because peo‐ ple felt committed to the decisions made by their leaders (this feeling actually depends on the internalised cultural context) and were successful in reaching outcomes. Henceforth, the committee acted as a partner of project staff, sharing in relevant decision‐making throughout the project. Moreover, through their involvement in project design and im‐ plementation, local leaders gained connections with external actors (cf. Johnson, 2001) and acquired soft skills to ‘undertake other activities, initiate contacts with other organi‐ sations and engage in dialogue with anyone at any moment’ (expressed by a project offi‐ cer). In contrast, residents in Santa Maria felt that their decisions were not respected. People steadily lost ownership of the project, while other actors made decisions about eligibility, layout of the town, house design, and so forth. Then, people focused on doing whatever was ordered to get their houses finished and to keep them. Finally, despite problems with the survivors’ association, residents saw the reconstruction project as a result of its work and expressed that they needed it. A woman said: Now we realise that, one, we have our house, and two, we have to do and consent to do what they [leaders] request us… because we [do not want] to have shortage. That association was later registered as an NGO and managed several small projects in the colony. However, in the eyes of non‐leaders, it became more effective to promote its lead‐ ers’ own goals. Patron‐client relations among residents developed over time.

Conclusions Project practices reveal the implicit real assumptions that guide behaviour and that affect the participants’ autonomy and the projects’ effectiveness and sustainability. These are the aspects that require priority attention during project design, appraisal, execution, moni‐ toring and evaluation. In relation to implicit assumptions of ‘what works’ for household and community participation, two types of practices were highlighted in this article: condi‐ tionality practices linked to manual work and participatory design in the light of ‘commu‐ nity participation’. The first type had different influences on individual autonomy depending on how people internalised their work commitments, which in turn depends on contextual and personal factors. Manual work had some direct positive effects on perceived agency mainly through an increased awareness of personal skills applied during the projects. However, control‐ ling contexts sometimes externalised motivation, leading to reduced operational efficacy in some cases, or could have put at risk the participants’ subsistence (especially in recon‐ struction projects). Hence, the overall influence of the projects on human autonomy was reduced and ownership was hurt. The second type of practice, participatory design, was implemented differently in recon‐ struction projects and water projects. For the latter, it was only pretended. Despite the fact that the community association in Agua Fria was the most experienced of all, the project was externally designed and leaders were only consulted in a difficult context. On the other hand, this practice had contrasting effects in San Agustin and Santa Maria. In San Agustin, external help took an indirect approach (Ellerman, 2006), i.e., project staff supported the self‐motivated change initiated by community leaders of the municipal de‐

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velopment committee (and fuelled by the earthquakes). This committee became the pro‐ ject counterpart throughout the project lifespan and later opened up opportunities for residents to better their own lives. Project staff managed for the sustainability of outcomes valued by project participants, facilitating the joint work of different stakeholders. In Santa Maria, decisions made by participants were not respected and participants were progressively losing their ownership of the project. Moreover, most people worked in the common agricultural land with only an external motivation. They would do whatever was required in order to sustain themselves, and to get and keep their houses. Linking the first and second practice, internalisation of work commitments also depends on the internalised cultural context and the representativeness of leaders. Some people prefer and are confident to delegate crucial decisions to leaders and respect the agree‐ ments they make. This seems the case in San Agustin and Agua Fria in contrast to San Fer‐ nando (no previous organisation) or Santa Maria (self‐nominated leaders). However, the delegation of decision‐making and respectful attitudes might cover‐up long‐lasting social inequalities and resentments (Cleaver, 2004). Finally, power relations influence practices and the entitlement to resources provided by projects (e.g. the small agricultural project). Practices such as top‐down design (or pre‐ tended participatory design) and excessive conditionality typically harm participants’ autonomy by affecting their autonomy causality orientation, which is the subjective basis of autonomy. Moreover, despite being supportive to various short‐term goals, these prac‐ tices had negative longer‐run significance. In sum, when project practices constrain the opportunities and felt competence of indi‐ viduals to help themselves, the ‘development’ or change promoted by those projects will not be sustained. If instead project planners and managers consciously select autonomy‐ supportive practices and adapt them to specific contexts, projects will have far greater chances of furthering sustainable human development.

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