Last week, delegates braved triple digit temperatures in Seville, Spain for the Fourth International Conference on Financing for Development (FfD4). In the latest blow to multilateral cooperation, the US pulled out weeks before. But those who were disheartened by this turn of events could take comfort from the fact that the remaining 192 countries approved the Sevilla Commitment, which aims to mobilize key sources of development finance to support the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), including domestic resources, private capital, foreign investment, sub-national financing, and remittances, as well as prompt action on trade and debt. But with or without the US, a better title for the outcome document would have been the Sevilla Aspirational.
The Sevilla Commitment does, in fact, include several commitments (along with affirmations, pledges and other terms that imply action), including to eradicate all forms of corruption, ensure adequate education financing for all, strengthen tax systems, ensure transparency and accountability in public financial management, and mainstream a “gender perspective” across the development agenda. Any one of these would represent a major victory for development finance, but no one is actively touting these commitments because there is a tacit recognition that they represent little more than words on a page. In terms of follow up, the document “invites countries to report on progress,” and commits to “deepen substantive discussions” on financing for development—not processes that will hold governments’ feet to the fire.
I have shared similar criticisms of these declarations before (here and here), but my concerns regarding the Sevilla Commitment go beyond issues of accountability. First, the context for development finance has become much bleaker since the last Financing for Development Conference in 2015, when delegates approved the Addis Ababa Action Agenda, the predecessor of the Sevilla Commitment:
- ODA is expected to decline in 2025 by up to 17 percent, after falling 7 percent in 2024, thanks largely due to draconian cuts to the US assistance budget.
- The majority of developing countries are dealing with crippling debt burdens, crowding out vital spending on health and education, with limited relief on the horizon. (While the Sevilla Commitment includes a plan to establish a “platform for borrowers” at the UN, I am skeptical about its potential utility.)
- Private lending flows to developing countries declined 40 percent from a high of $252 billion in 2017 to $152 billion in 2023, and we continue to struggle with how to effectively mobilize private capital for development.
- The US imposition of ten percent across-the-board-tariffs is expected to dampen global growth in 2025, with the possibility of more tariffs looming on the horizon.
So, despite all the goodwill embedded in the Sevilla Commitment, facts on the ground are more likely to deteriorate than they are to improve.
Second, the document fails to acknowledge some hard truths about the conventional development financing model. The fact is that there are significant redundancies and inefficiencies in the system that we can ill-afford. This includes the proliferation of vertical (e.g., sector/issue specific) funds that depend on regular cash infusions from donors, who are stretched ever thinner, especially now that the US has pulled out of several major funds, including Gavi, the Vaccine Alliance.
Serious thought should be given to whether these models are still viable during a time of resource scarcity and whether some consolidation is possible.
Another hard truth is that no SDG will be met by 2030 and for many of them, there has been little discernable progress. Much is made of the ballooning funding shortfall, but the fact is that money alone will not manifest the SDGs. With ten years behind us and tens of billions already spent, we need to evaluate what has worked and what has not. Currently, the aid effectiveness agenda is focused on country alignment and ownership, but not on impact. That needs to change.
Finally, I wonder if we think enough about the opportunity cost of these global declarations. Negotiating these documents is a heavily resource intensive exercise. They consume hundreds—if not thousands—of negotiating hours and, thanks to related travel demands, can have a significant carbon footprint as well. There is a risk, too, that they create an illusion of action that breeds complacency.
If the 192 signatory countries could channel the financial equivalent of these costs to aid, might we all be better off?
