Open defecation: where does responsibility lie?

Image credit: Water Witness

At the 2022 World Water Forum, Nigerian delegates reaffirmed the country’s plans to criminalise open defecation. With the advent of new legislation, anyone caught and prosecuted is liable to a fine of 5000 Nigerian Naira or an option of non-custodial punishment of one week. But is this something to celebrate? Is the lens of criminality the right approach for ending open defecation? Interrogating these questions holds significant implications for the relationship between rights holders and duty bearers.

A public health disaster

There is no doubt that the practice of open defecation poses a major threat to public health and the environment. According to the World Health Organisation, over 1.7 billion people still do not have basic sanitation services, such as private toilets or latrines. Consequently, millions of people still resort to defecating in street gutters, behind bushes or into open bodies of water. This results in the transmission of diarrhoeal diseases such as cholera and dysentery, as well as typhoid, intestinal worm infections and polio. Poor sanitation exacerbates stunting and contributes to the spread of antimicrobial resistance, and has been linked to increased anxiety, risk of sexual assault, and lost opportunities for education and work.

Where does the responsibility lie for this public health disaster? Is it solely with the anti-social behaviour of individuals? Is it a case of the state failing its citizens? Or is it a consequence of broader political economy dynamics, regimes of debt and accumulation that have subordinated public goods to the profit imperative, and stripped governments of the resources necessary to provide basic services?

The community model

There are different accountability dynamics at play here, extending from the government, to the community, to individual citizens. In recent years, efforts to tackle open defecation have been reinvigorated by Community-Led Total Sanitation (CLTS) approaches, which seek to build community-level accountability combined with mutual support.[1] This rests on the assumption that citizens share mutual responsibilities to not pollute the communal environment, animating arguments that shame can be instrumentalised in a positive ways to trigger behavioural shifts.

CLTS conducts transect walks with communities, and mobilises the shock or disgust at everyday faecal contamination to ‘trigger’ a shift in attitudes. This ‘zero subsidy model’ rests on the logic that constructing the simplest pit latrine is within reach of even the poorest segments of the population. The argument goes that enforcement is required to ensure a healthy environment and safeguard human health.

However, the evidence on CLTS suggests its enduring impact on behavioural practices has been limited. In reality, some community members will not be adequately provided for, and there are unresolved questions around infrastructure maintenance and long-term behaviour change after initial enthusiasm from community members wears off. A further concern is whether pit latrines will be up to quality or dangerous, especially for the young, the elderly, and the disabled. Ultimately, this is not a durable and long-term infrastructure solution.

The government option

Almost half the world’s population still have no access to improved sanitation facilities. However, this tragedy is not inevitable. We can learn from previous examples of historical success, such as Victorian London and 1960s Singapore, where disease and squalor were rapidly eliminated through massive state investment, regulatory interventions and public works projects that provided near universal access to basic sanitation. By upholding the human right to water, and using fiscal levers to pursue bold, comprehensive public investment programmes, the state could rediscover its public purpose and deliver rapid progress on public health goals. However, if governments have failed to provide the most basic sanitation infrastructure in the interim, the enforcement of punitive laws against open defecation seems misguided at best.

Penalising the individual

There is a risk that criminalisation reverses the promise of community empowerment promoted by CLTS, and redirects attention away from groups holding political and economic power, by placing the burden of responsibility solely onto individuals. The implications are dire: recognising that those most prone to open defecation are low-income households with low levels of formal education, disciplinary action via fines or other form of sanction is likely to provoke further hardship on already marginalised communities. An additional concern relates to the manner of law enforcement. As global protest movements have exposed, police discrimination, corruption, and violence are not the exception, but the norm.[2] Consequently, such an approach is likely to further undermine trust, and ensure that the state’s attempts to coerce people into changing their behaviour are guaranteed to fail.

Conclusion

Accountability means knowing where responsibility lies. Criminalising the poor for performing basic physiological functions, when sanitation facilities are poor to non-existent, seems to be a simplistic quick fix ‘solution’ that places blame squarely on individuals, and avoids the socio-economic context in which such practices occur. In place of such punitive measures, a better approach would build on aspects of CLTS  to both promote an ethos of collective care, and stimulate a government responsive to improve sanitation facilities. Cultivating a sense of social solidarity can strengthen accountability relationships between citizens, and strengthen their collective voice to demand more from those in power.

Benjamin Brown, Water Witness

Notes

[1] for the purposes of this blog, we are focusing primarily on rural communities in low and middle income countries such as Nigeria.

[2] For example, in Nigeria, #EndSARS protesters highlighted how a militarised police force had acted with impunity to perpetrate widespread abuses. It was later disbanded. See: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-58817690  

Previous
Previous

Memo to UN 2023 water conference planners

Next
Next

February 2022 quarterly update