Estimating spending on science and research
It is difficult to measure overall expenditure on science and research given we have no clear definitions of the range of activities that could be included. However, we can estimate a total expenditure on activities classified as R&D, which approaches €30 billion per annum across the AU member states. I base this on a single source, namely, Statista which, unfortunately, I cannot otherwise appraise.
It falls at least within the order of magnitude suggested by relatively incomplete data provided in the most recent (2019) African Innovation Outlook (AIO) (p. 10).
The number cited would equate to less than one tenth of the equivalent estimate for Europe. But, assuming it is approximately correct, it would nevertheless be a significant sum, putting total African spending in the same order as Italy and higher than the reported R&D spending of multinational firms such as Amazon.
The substantial majority of spending would be concentrated in the Mediterranean (mainly, Egypt) and the handful of major economies south of the Sahara (notably, South Africa, Kenya, and Nigeria).
As is well-known, South Africa is the stand-out case, with a science and research enterprise that compares in scale to other countries that have higher per capita incomes. To be more specific, the stand-out case is even smaller geographically. R&D expenditure is concentrated in three provinces of South Africa, namely Gauteng, Western Cape and KwaZulu Natal; the remainder of the country is not as prominent.*
Quoting the aforementioned AIO, the total full-time equivalent R&D personnel and researchers across the available sample of African countries was 187k (p. 24).
This figure is, again, roughly in the Italian range, to take a national example, but much lower than the EU overall which harbors about 2m full-time equivalent researchers.†
Obviously the data presented above are incomplete even on their own merits and they refer only to activities classified as R&D. But they suggest a certain capacity, judged by global standards
That being said, an entire continent is operating on the scientific capacity of a small but relatively wealthy post-industrial economy like Italy. Therein lies the problem of under-powering, noting also, that AU capacity is never going to be mobilized in a concerted way.
Where the money gets spent
The goal of this section is to explore some interesting specifics and thereby complicate that basic statistical picture. Much of what follows is well-known among experts, but I believe it is worth repeating.
As highlighted in the AIO (p. xviii), public sector expenditure on R&D as % of GDP in Africa sits around the global average. Of course, it is the absolute numbers that matter in terms of the amount of science that can be bought, not the % of GDP, which matters only symbolically.
Most funds are spent in universities and the government. South Africa and Egypt were the dominant countries in the samples cited below, by a large amount.
R&D expenditure by location, citing the most recent African Innovation Outlook (2019)
| Location | Total expenditure | Median expenditure |
| Higher education | US$ 7.6b | US$ 37m |
| Government | US$ 4.5b | US$ 31m |
| Business | US$ 2.7b | US$10m†† |
| Private non-profit | US$ 264m | US$ 8.4m |
The division between activities in the public and private sectors cannot always be accurately characterized. As a generalization, it has been said that R&D conducted in the business sector is relatively insignificant in African countries, compared to other continents.
However, this is not a statement always applicable, citing the well-known case of South Africa.¶ Sasol (oil and gas) and Sappi (forestry and paper) would appear to be the most R&D intensive firms on the continent, both South African, noting as examples, respectively, Sasol R&T campus and the SSA Technology Centre (assessment of firms based on an ‘R&D ranking of the world top 2500 companies’ by the EU Joint Research Centre, dated 2019§).
We must also consider that a possibly significant but unknown percentage of public expenditure on science falls in the military rather than civil category. Such a conclusion would lead us to substantially downgrade the effectiveness of spending in the civilian field, while also acknowledging the interpenetration of sectors in some countries.
If we take one of the biggest R&D spenders on the continent, Egypt; the country also possesses a notably large military. No further comment can be made on this connection other than to note one analyst’s view, dated 2019, concerning ‘the staggeringly low level of investment in genuine research and development’ in the Egyptian ‘defence industry’.||
The Biafran side in the Nigerian civil war revealed great skills of technological improvisation. Biafra produced memorable examples of intermediate armoured vehicles and quasi-tanks. Unfortunately, the technological prowess…was promptly killed by the oil bonanza…Prosperity destroyed innovation. – Ali A. Mazrui and J. F. Ade Ajay in collaboration with A. Adu Boahen and Tshishiku Tshibangu, 1993, ‘Trends in philosophy and science in Africa’ in: General History of Africa volume VIII: Africa since 1935, p. 675. [The late authors, who are of course famous individuals, were being ironic.]
Where the money comes from
Moving now to who funds science and research in Africa. Even though the question is important, is not possible to adduce a schematic answer; statistics tend to highlight the sector where the research is conducted, not who paid for it.
Logically, funding will come from external capital (e.g., private investors, donors), domestic and overseas taxpayers, cross-subsidization such as commerce and personal private capital, and company funds. The exact proportions in each particular case would vary of course.
I will address the first category, external capital, including commercial investments, donations, philanthropic and quasi-philanthropic activities, on another page (linked here when available). It is the most talked about.
My first point for discussion in this section therefore lies with Africa’s national science and technology funding mechanisms – and political support for them. The problem is we don’t really have an overall picture of this area, in terms of the political economy of funding mechanisms across the continent and where the levers might rest.
I will take one example I heard about – funds that draw revenue by taxing particular sectors, but dispense funding in an autonomous way independent of those sectors. In other words, they are not industry research associations, as such, but general purpose funds for strategic investment in science and research.
The idea was promoted long ago in the Lagos Plan at a pan-African scale, referring to taxing of foreign firms at 1% of revenue. It never saw the light of day. However, at the national level, arguably similar approaches did indeed develop.
Nigeria’s TETfund and the proposed NRIC/NRIF research and innovation fund (link, pp. 11-12) are two of the most notable examples. The former is focused on universities and derives revenue from a tax mainly on the oil and gas industry. The latter has yet to be established and is currently subject to debate, but could, in theory, invest more widely such as in research institutes.
There are identifiable problems with a fund based on oil and gas like TETFund, as income varies with market price while also, of course, noting the climate risks of such a revenue stream.
However, TETfund provided uplift to facilities in universities since its latest legislative update in 2011, even if there is an unmet need for widening the tax-base and other reforms.
Conversations about the political and bureaucratic viability of funding based on taxing export commodities ought to be pursued where possible throughout the continent.
The Education Tax Collection from companies operation in the Oil and Gas sector constitute about 85% of the total collection accrued or the year. This implies that the Funds revenue base is directly linked to happenings in the sector and the dwindling price of the product. However, the Federal Inland Revenue Service are currently making considerable efforts to grow taxes from the non-oil sector. 2021 TETFund ANNUAL REPORT, p. 118
It is also worth noting the importance of sources not generally discussed in policy documents but which I believe are important in sustaining the scientific enterprise.
In the case of public research institutes, commerce (sale of goods and services) is something to mention, examples below.
- The Ghana Atomic Energy Commission sells construction materials, blocks for masonry work, etc. (https://gaec.gov.gh/mechanical-services/ https://gaec.gov.gh/block-factory/)
- The Centre National de Recherche Agronomique in Côte d’Ivoire offers for sale crop seeds, tubers, etc., as well as packaged coffee.
- The Federal Institute of Industrial Research, Oshodi in Nigeria advertises about 100 products such as plantain chips and a drink made from Hibiscus.
As far as I am aware, however, there has been no study of this phenomenon. But having spent time examining the accounts of some research institutions in Europe and talking to managers in them, I know such commerce is a crucial feature of the business model where, in European cases, it can account for millions of € of vital income.
It may also be a crucial but underappreciated part of the knowledge economy of institutions by linking research and production through daily work, although the evidence for that latter claim is more anecdotal.
My conclusion is that our analyses must encompass the possibilities even if the scale is much smaller on the African continent. We ought not to identify R&D institutions as ‘pure play’ research contractors despite the name in the title; they also potentially engage in production that earns income, potentially at quite a large scale and of crucial importance to institutional survival.
I think we might also presume, given historically low resourcing, that individual scientists sustained their activities by cross-subsidization with personal private capital, such as funds from savings, family and friends, running businesses and undertaking paid work that had little, ostensibly, to do with scientific activities that are recorded.
Again, we lack studies on this point, but I suspect a careful reading of scientific biographies and institutional histories could reveal useful data.#
The non-financial contributions of a large number of people must also be recognized as paramount in this enterprise, as well, of course, noting the political and emotional work of many kinds needed to sustain enthusiasm despite setbacks.**
Artisanal research – resourcing mechanism and methodology
The sociologist of science, Prof. Yaovi Akakpo, identified ‘artisanal research…made with the means available…a particular model of research organization characterized by resourcefulness and DIY’ (pp. 74-75) as a paradigmatic mode of knowledge production in Africa.
He has also referred to another phenomenon, ‘technological DIY’, such as ‘artisanal and fraudulent’ extension of the electrical network and water ‘foraging’, which represent ‘an impressive field of innovation and production of know-how in Africa’ while also exemplifying ‘underdevelopment’ (pp. 10-11).
If ‘artisanal research’, ‘technological DIY’ and so on, have been one of the core ways that the expert enterprise has been sustained on the continent, and, indeed, perhaps globally (even in the worst of conditions), then I would think we need to know more about it, how it changed through time, and what it has achieved.
Prof. Akakpo believes that information about technological DIY ought to become an input in science policy. How exactly this could occur is not yet clear but I think there would be ideas.
References to what might be similar phenomena have been made before, such as in the Lagos Plan but probably have not been picked up fully.
Certainly, in a technology policy discourse that relentlessly talks about a handful of supposedly future-oriented fields such as AI, it would be an important intellectual corrective to talk empirically about all aspects of technological systems, not just a single type of device.
However, it is also important to recall the stigma that swirls around such terms. ‘Appropriate technology’, promoted by donors, was a racist doctrine (think about these labels).
A possibly related concept, jugaard was criticized in an Indian context as push-back against the popular management literature, in a recent book by Dinesh C. Sharma, Indian Innovation, Not Jugaad – 100 Ideas that Transformed India. It is sub-optimal, unsustainable and indeed, dangerous, and probably not something that ought to be promoted as a policy goal.
Prof. Frédéric-Bienvenu Mabasi-Bakabana, expressly calls for a ‘rationalisation…and a technoscientific discourse’ that references Nkrumah. Muhammad Sadi Adamu rejects colonialist notions.
Calls for collaboration, a perennial feature
Africa does not only need to deliberately adopt science and technology in its development policies, but there should be clear-cut benefits of such policies in regard to the role and efficiency of the existing science and technology infrastructure…there exist various strengths amongst African industrial research institutes, and that if these institutes can interact among themselves, and with the productive sector in general, most of the bottle-necks facing industrial development of the region could be minimized. – Mwamadzingo, 1997, Science and technology for sustainable industrial growth in Africa: the prospects for institutional cooperation, in: Economic Management in Sub Saharan Africa: Lessons from the 1970s and 1980s and Prospects for the 1990s and Beyond, pp. 87-88
The need for collaboration across African national borders has been pointed out many times. One argument for such collaboration might be that the capacity is already present, but scattered; by closer collaboration, perhaps even as far as integrated action, capacity would expand without much need for additional funding. This is obviously an appealing proposition for a number of reasons, but it runs into practical problems.
Despite regular appeals to pan-African ideals, the first of these lies with the fact that science policy is generally conceived at a national level. Building cross-border mechanisms proves difficult. The bureaucracy of the national science ministry, national laboratories, and so on, are national phenomena with national chains of command.
The more obvious problem, however, is a lack of funds to articulate cross-border collaborations through joint R&D programs. No amount of networking would solve that problem, i.e., everyone can talk to one another more and have more meetings, certainly, but there is no funding to incentivize integration of science and research
Indeed, even within an otherwise extremely well-funded public R&D system as found in the EU, the amount of cross-border projects remains a fraction of total activity. The idea of collaboration at a distance, so to speak, even with like-minded institutions, is not a simple one, and has to be examined cautiously as a proposition in any given case. Against this global backdrop, the efforts of African institutions in the multilateral field are therefore quite impressive.
Global South – Global North
Another important argument put forward is that African scientists focus their collaboration on developed countries, notably in North America and Europe (citing the 2020 analysis by Prof. Radhamany Soorathmathy, p. 164, covering the years 2011-2015). This is reflective of colonial and therefore linguistic domination (ibid., pp. 150 and 155).
A recent (2023) book by the same author, Independent Africa, Dependent Science, discussed collaboration with scientists working in better-funded systems outside Africa, power imbalances thereby arising, and concomitant loss of intellectual control. Yet he believed that ‘a more self-reliant science and freedom from dependency’ was possible, and he advocated for what he saw as efforts to gain autonomy.
There is a well-known critique herein of collaboration with Europe, namely, that it is neocolonialist. On one level, relatively small sums of money are transferred to African institutions through donor funding schemes. These are insufficient for positive effects (such as sustaining academic careers over the long term), but enough to subvert the work of African scientists seeking to produce reliable knowledge.
Obviously, we can therefore talk about the need to marginalize donors as financial actors in African science and technology; we can also talk about the need for intellectual marginalization of science and research advocated by the Global North.
How these various financial and intellectual currents interpenetrate is typically the question at stake because where there is no money, R&D proves difficult. Efforts to develop an autonomous science are thereby seen not just as matters of equity but crucial for the production of reliable knowledge and, inevitably, with both intellectual and financial implications.
All this being said, we should note – and this is also relatively well-known – the idea of excessive collaboration with Europe can be seen as outdated in some regard. Even based on Prof. Soorathmathy’s 2020 data, the majority of the collaboration occurred with developing countries. This means not only with other African countries, e.g., South Africa and Nigeria, but with China, India, and other major scientific centers such as Brazil.
Therefore, we might observe an emergent phenomenon of collaboration within the Global South as a crucial driver of science and innovation, evidenced by scientific publications. Of course, this does rule out collaborations with scientists in the Global North, it just sets parameters that these collaborations will be tuned to scientific objectives in Africa.
The corollary – African scientists ought to turn down collaborations with the Global North where those collaborations do not correlate with their own scientific interests. This kind of strategic behavior, however, it unlikely to be incentivized in many research institutions who prioritize the winning of grants above other metrics.
*https://www.tia.org.za/core/uploads/2022/03/138115-TIA-APP-202223-8th-PROOF-23-March.pdf, p. 25
¶ https://www.google.es/books/edition/Transnational_Corporations_and_Local_Inn/yuYJEAAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=corporate+R%26D+in+africa&pg=PT267&printsec=frontcover, p. under fig 6.6
§ R&D ranking of the world top 2500 companies, The 2019 EU Industrial R&D Investment Scoreboard https://iri.jrc.ec.europa.eu/scoreboard/2019-eu-industrial-rd-investment-scoreboard#field_data. https://www.sasol.com/media-centre/media-releases/sasol-and-university-twente-join-forces-develop-technologies-removal-atmospheric-carbon-dioxide
|| Yezid Sayigh, 2019, Owners of the Republic: An Anatomy of Egypt’s Military Economy, Carnegie Middle East Center. The quotation is from p. 10. There is a more extended discussion of the topic on pp. 60-65.
# Prof. Koju Foso, ran a ‘brick and tile’ factory, besides being a prominent art historian, as an example I heard about (citing p. 18 of O.Q. Essel, 2015, Kojo Fosu in African Art History: a Biography, Winneba, Ghana). We have yet to formulate a comprehensive analysis of scientific biographies and institutional histories that would allow us to expand this point beyond the anecdotes.
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