In 2005, billionaire hedge fund manager Eddie Lampert acquired a large portion of Sears Holdings, the parent company of Sears and Kmart, among other brands. In 2008, Lampert reorganized the company into 30 autonomous business units that would operate like independent businesses, with their own IT contracts, marketing officers, and most importantly, annual financial statements. The idea was that having each unit compete for resources would drive better decision-making and boost profits overall. The exact opposite happened. The divisions turned against one another, making decisions that benefited their divisions at the expense of others. In the year after Lampert’s acquisition of Sears, the company thrived, but two years later, profits tanked, the share price plummeted, and hundreds of stores were closed. As Jillian Popadak explains in a new paper about corporate culture and firm value, erosion of corporate culture may be to blame.

It’s not the case that decentralization is always bad—some large technology companies take this approach—but in Sears’s case, the reorganization changed the norms and culture for employees, dis-incentivizing collaboration at the expense of the overall firm. Popadak notes that former Sears employees speak to this: they said the change created a “warring-tribes culture” that lacked cooperation, and “the result was confusing to the customer.” Media accounts tell a similar story. Accounts detail managers cutting floor staff to save money, intense rivalries over the space in the weekly circular, resulting in nonsense product combinations, and a paltry one percent investment in capital expenditures. Popadak argues this is an example of how important implicit norms can be when they are working to create value at the company. When the explicit emphasis on performance was introduced, it “overpowered the implicit values to collaborate, satisfy the customer, and not act selfishly.”

How can you tell if a firm’s culture creates long-term value, or even measure something so seemingly unquantifiable? Popadak argues that while corporate governance measures are designed to change the explicit rules at a company, the culture is a set of implicit rules that govern employee behavior: the expectations employees have about what it takes to be successful at the firm. In her paper, Popadak collected millions of reviews from job sites like Glassdoor.com, Payscale.com, and CareerBliss.com by year and firm, and then used the text of the reviews to create measures of firm culture based on six categories: adaptability, collaboration, customer-orientation, detail-orientation, results-orientation, and integrity. She then assessed how these measures changed when a firm underwent a governance change.

Popadak writes of this graphic, “The figure shows that firms with stronger shareholder governance exhibited statistically significant increases in results-orientation but decreases in customer-orientation, integrity, and collaboration in the year following the governance change.” In the short term, a move to results-orientation boosts sales growth and payout in the short term, but in the long term, there are “significant declines in intangible value, customer satisfaction and brand value.” Ultimately, Popadak concludes that sacrificing corporate culture for short-term payoff may not be worth it.

In the marijuana reform conversation, one of the grandest boogeymen is “Big Marijuana.” Reform advocates, opponents of marijuana legalization, patients, consumers, media, and many others worry openly that the marijuana industry will consolidate into a corporate beast and a bad market actor reminiscent of Big Tobacco companies.

In a paper released earlier this month entitled, “Worry about bad marijuana—not Big Marijuana,” Jonathan Rauch and I engage the likelihood and risks of the emergence of such a corporate entity. Although the paper makes several points, we begin with a discussion of exactly what “Big Marijuana” means. What we find is that the concept is tossed around so frequently, assigned to so many different types of market actors, that it has ultimately lost meaning.

Often, the term is used to describe any large corporate entity or consolidation effort within the marijuana industry. In reality, standard corporate consolidation or the existence of large companies in an industry are basic aspects in capitalism. What’s more there are huge differences between marijuana industry actors today and Big Tobacco companies of the middle of the 20^th century—in terms of size, scope, and market power to name a few. It should be expected that an industry that is young, fractured, and rapidly maturing will endure periods of consolidation and in the process, large and successful corporate entities will emerge. One should not assume, however, that such behaviors are sinister, suspect, or intent on engaging in immoral or illegal activities.

Nor should one assume that only large corporate entities can engage in bad behaviors. They surely can, but other market actors may as well. The policy conversation around marijuana industry structure often holds Big Marijuana up as the actor who will bring problems for enforcement, diversion, sale to minors, sale to problem users, etc. The reality is that a marijuana entity of any size can behave in many of those behaviors. The problem with an unending focus on industry structure or corporate size is that policymakers and regulators can give a pass to smaller actors who may engage in the types of behaviors people inside and outside of industry seek to avoid—those same types of behaviors we saw from the tobacco industry.

We argue there is a more sensible, safer step forward that begins with a simple premise. There are certain outcomes that the marijuana industry must avoid, and policy and regulation should preferably ban, but at least disincentivize those outcomes. We mention a few in the paper: antisocial marketing (marketing to children or problem users), regulatory capture, outcomes that hurt medical marijuana patients, and increasing barriers to entry and corporate crowd out—but others like diversion, illegal sales, and more must (and do) concern policy makers. In some cases, certain behaviors are more likely to come from larger corporate entities, but many behaviors can happen, independent of firm size.

There are a variety of ways to avoid some of these outcomes beyond a focus on firm size and corporate consolidation. Some of those options are highlighted by the RAND Corporation’s Drug Policy Research Center. In “Options and Issues Regarding Marijuana Legalization,” the authors argue a shift away from the corporate model—either through the use of non-profit entities or government operation of whole portions of the market (supply, retail, or both) can have real benefit. These approaches can allow regulators greater control over negative market actions and induce incentives focused on public health and good governance, rather than profit maximization. Those arguments are quite convincing, but as states continue to construct medical and recreational marijuana programs using the corporate model, it is important to consider policy approaches within that existing framework.

Thus, we recommend that regulators and policy makers not primarily focus on firm size, corporate consolidation, or the corporatization of the marijuana industry. Instead, they should work to avoid specific outcomes they see as unwanted or bad and pass laws, promulgate regulations, conduct information and education campaigns, and take whatever actions are necessary to stop them in their tracks. At the end of the day, one thing is clear: no one wants “Bad Marijuana” regardless of whether it comes from Big, Small, or Otherwise-Sized Marijuana.

Click through to read the full report, “Worry about bad marijuana—not Big Marijuana.”

Click through to watch the public event and paper release “Big Marijuana: How corporations and lobbies will shape the legalization landscape.”

In the developing world, more than 200 million children under the age of five years are at risk of not reaching their full human potential because they suffer from the negative consequences of poverty, nutritional deficiencies and inadequate learning opportunities. Given these risks, there is a strong case for early childhood development (ECD) interventions in nutrition, health, education and social protection, which can produce long-lasting benefits throughout the life cycle. The results from the 2012 round of the Program for International Student Assessment (PISA)—an international, large-scale assessment that measures 15-year-olds’ performance in mathematics, reading and science literacy—demonstrate the benefits of ECD: Students in the countries that belong to the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) who had the benefit of being enrolled for more than one year in preprimary school scored 53 points higher in mathematics (the equivalent of more than one year of schooling), compared with students who had not attended preprimary school. Although there is much evidence that ECD programs have a great impact and are less costly than educational interventions later in life, very few ECD initiatives are being scaled up in developing countries. For example, in 2010, only 15 percent of children in low-income countries—compared with 48 percent worldwide—were enrolled in preprimary education programs. Furthermore, even though the literature points to larger beneficial effects of ECD for poorer children, within developing countries, disadvantaged families are even less likely to be among those enrolled in ECD programs. For instance, in Ghana, children from wealthy families are four times more likely than children from poor households to be enrolled in preschool programs.

One of the major barriers to scaling up ECD interventions is financing. In order to address financing issues, both policymakers and practitioners need a better understanding of what is currently being spent on ECD interventions, what high-quality interventions cost, and what outcomes these interventions can produce. If stakeholder groups are made more aware of the costs of ECD interventions, they may be able to support decisionmaking on investments in ECD, to better estimate gaps in financing, and to work toward securing stable funding for scaling up service provision and for quality enhancement. One of the weakest areas of ECD policy planning is in the realm of financial planning.6 Good data are scarce on ECD spending and the costs of ECD interventions that are useful for program budgeting and planning; but these data are valuable for a number of reasons, including the fact that they support analyses of what different inputs cost and thus can facilitate considering various alternative modalities for service delivery. In this paper, we focus on what data are available to gain a clearer picture of what is being spent on ECD and what it costs to deliver basic ECD interventions in developing countries.

ECD interventions come in many varieties, and therefore we first define the package of ECD interventions that have been deemed essential. Then we outline a framework for better understanding ECD financing, which combines a top-down approach analyzing expenditures and a bottom-up approach analyzing the costs of delivering individual interventions. We comment on the general methodological issues stemming from these approaches and the limitations of the data that have been produced. Next, we delve into the available data and discuss the different funding sources and financing mechanisms that countries utilize to deliver ECD services and what patterns exist in spending. We provide a brief overview of how many public and private resources in both developed and developing countries are invested in young children, and in which specific subsectors. Although these data on spending illustrate the flows and help us understand how much is being allocated and by whom, the data are limited, and this top-down approach still leaves us with many unanswered questions. Therefore, we turn our attention to the actual costs of individual ECD interventions, which help us further understand what ECD spending can “buy” in different countries. We identify some trends in the actual costs of delivering these services, although there are a number of methodological issues vis-à-vis costing and the services delivered, which lead to wide variations between and within countries and make it difficult to compare programs over time.

Finally, we look at a number of initiatives that are currently under way to collect better data on ECD costs and expenditures, which will be useful for countries in planning programs and identifying funding sources. These initiatives are sponsored by organizations such as UNICEF, Save the Children, the World Bank and the Inter-American Development Bank. Given the gaps in the available data that we identify and the interventions currently under way, we conclude with recommendations for increasing the knowledge base in this area for use in policymaking and planning.

In this tumultuous election year one wonders whether reasoned debate about education or other policies is still possible. That said, research has a role to play in helping policymakers make good decisions – if not before than after they are in office. So what do we know about the ability of early education to change children’s lives? At the moment, scholars are divided. One camp argues that pre-k doesn’t work, suggesting that it would be a mistake to expand it. Another camp believes that it is one of the most cost-effective things we could do to improve children’s lifetime prospects, especially if they come from disadvantaged homes.

The pre-k advocates cite several earlier demonstrations, such as the Perry Preschool and Abecedarian programs. These have been rigorously evaluated and found to improve children’s long-term success, including less use of special education, increases in high school graduation, reduced crime, and higher earnings. Participants in the Abecedarian program, for example, earned 60 percent more than controls by age 30. Mothers benefit as well since more of them are able to work. The Abecedarian project increased maternal earnings by $90,000 over the course of the mother’s career. Finally, by reducing crime, improving health, and decreasing the need for government assistance, these programs also reduce the burden on taxpayers. According to one estimate, the programs even increase GDP to the tune of $30 to $80 billion (in 2015 dollars) once the children have moved into and through their working lives. A careful summary of all this research can be found in this year’s Economic Report of the President. The Report notes, and I would emphasize, that no one study can do justice to this issue, and not every program has been successful, but the weight of the evidence points strongly to the overall success of high-quality programs. This includes not just the small, very intensive model programs, but importantly the large, publically-funded pre-school programs such as those in Boston, Tulsa, Georgia, North Carolina, and New Jersey. Some estimates put the ratio of benefits to costs at $7 to $1. Very few investments promise such a large return. Pre-k advocates admit that any gains in IQ may fade but that boosts to nonacademic skills such as self-control, motivation, and planning have long-term effects that have been documented in studies of siblings exposed to differing amounts of early education.

The pre-k critics point to findings from rigorous evaluations of the national Head Start program and of a state-wide program in Tennessee. These studies found that any gains from pre-k at the end of the program had faded by the time the children were in elementary school. They argue that the positive results from earlier model programs, such as Perry and Abecedarian, may have been the result of their small scale, their intensity, and the fact that the children involved had few alternative sources of care or early education. Children with more than adequate home environments or good substitute child care do not benefit as much, or at all, from participating in a pre-k program. In my view, this is an argument for targeted programs or for a universal program with a sliding scale fee for those who participate. In the meantime, it is too early to know what the longer-term effects of current programs will be. Despite their current popularity among scholars, one big problem with randomized controlled trials (RCTs) is that it takes a generation to get the answers you need. And, as is the case with Perry and Abecedarian, by the time you get them, they may no longer be relevant to contemporary environments in which mothers are better educated and more children have access to out-of-home care.

In the end, you can’t make public policy with RCTs alone. We need to incorporate lessons from neuroscience about the critical changes to the brain that occur in early childhood and the insights of specialists in child development. We need to consider what happens to non-cognitive skills over the longer term. We need to worry about the plight of working mothers, especially single parents, who cannot work without some form of out-of-home care. Providing that care on the cheap may turn out to be penny wise and pound foolish. (A universal child care program in Quebec funded at $5 a day led to worse behavior among the kids in the program.) Of course we need to continuously improve the effectiveness of pre-k through ongoing evaluation. That means weeding out ineffective programs along with improving curriculum, teacher preparation and pay, and better follow-up in the early grades. Good quality pre-k works; bad-quality does not. For the most disadvantaged children, it may require intervening much earlier than age 3 or 4 as the Abecedarian program did -- with strikingly good results.

Our society is coming apart. Scholars from AEI’s Charles Murray to Harvard’s Robert Putnam agree on that point. Anything that can improve the lives of the next generation should command our attention. The evidence will never be air-tight. But once one adds it all up, investing in high quality pre-k looks like a good bet to me.

Editor's note: This piece originally appeared in Real Clear Markets.