Evidence junkies (like me) are reacting to the disappointing news on the evaluation of the Adolescent Behavioral Learning Experience (ABLE), a program implemented at Rikers Island to reduce recidivism among adolescent prisoners. Bottom line: The rigorous independent evaluation of the program failed to find any benefits. What makes this experiment especially interesting is that it is the first U.S. application of social impact bonds. Goldman Sachs put up a $7.2 million loan, and Bloomberg Philanthropies committed to a $6 million loan guarantee. Since the program did not produce the expected outcomes, Goldman Sachs lost $1.2 million.
Ironically, New York City administrators are delighted about the outcome because they do not have to pay for the program. They think they learned a great deal from the experience, for free.
It’s unclear what this will do to the social impact bond movement, currently in its infancy. However, I wanted to extend from this fascinating case to a broader issue in evidence-based reform.
The developers and advocates for the ABLE program who expected positive outcomes turned out to be wrong, at least in this implementation. The investors were wrong in expecting to make a profit. But I’d argue that they are all better off because of this experience, just as the N.Y.C. administrators said.
The distinction I want to make is between wrong and wrong-headed. Wrong, as I’m defining it in this context, means that a given outcome was not achieved, but it was entirely reasonable to expect that it might have been achieved. In contrast, wrong-headed means that not only was the desired outcome not achieved, but it was extremely unlikely that it could have been achieved. In many cases, a key component of wrong-headed actions is that the actor does not even know whether the action was effective or ineffective, right or wrong, and therefore continues with the same or similar actions indefinitely.
Wrong, I’d argue, is an honorable and useful outcome. In a recent interview, former White House advisor Gene Sperling noted that when a few cancer drugs fail to cure cancer, you don’t close down NIH. Instead, you take that information and use it to continue the research and development process. “Wrong,” in this view, can be defined as “good failure,” because it is a step on the path to progress.