In 2017, Tarana Burke, founder of the movement against sexual violence known as Me Too was unexpectedly catapulted to international fame. The phrase she had coined to promote a sisterhood of survivors, "Me Too," had become a viral social media hashtag. Within days, Burke went from being a grassroots community organizer to a national icon and the movement she had nurtured for more than a decade in Church basements and school classrooms, erupted into a global rallying cry that brought down the careers of dozens of powerful men accused of sexual misconduct, including Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein and many others in more than 80 countries. Soon, she was named one of Time magazine's 100 most influential people and was awarded the prestigious Ridenhour Prize for Courage, which she shares with luminaries such as John Lewis. To Burke, a reckoning on sexual violence on such a large scale was long overdue, but neither her newfound celebrity nor the growing notoriety of the Me Too movement had ever been part of the plan. This case provides a rare behind-the-scenes look at the evolution of Burke as a leader from her early days as a community organizer to the years after she had become a household name. Burke's refreshingly honest account of her internal and external dilemmas as she created and sustained a movement to empower survivors of sexual violence, against considerable odds-and despite significant backlash from many quarters-offers important lessons for students of leadership everywhere.

In 2015, Mauricio Macri became President of Argentina and declared solving the energy crisis one of his top priorities. When Macri attempted to raise utility tariffs, however, he faced loud protests from citizens. In search of solutions to growing shortages, the government seized on Argentina's still largely untapped, but potentially vast renewable energy sector and created an ambitious program called RenovAr (renew in Spanish). By 2016, the country's share of renewable energy stood at less than 2 percent of the power mix. RenovAr's goal was to raise that percentage to 20 percent by 2025. An ambitious plan for an economy still reeling from the 2001 default. This case describes the business friendly Macri administration's strategy to attract private investment in the nascent renewable energy sector, under challenging macroeconomic conditions. The case package includes a sequel that describes the events between 2018 and 2020, when Argentina faced a crippling economic downturn and Macri lost to the Peronist duo, Alberto Fernandez and Vice President Fernandez de Kirchner. The sequel catches the reader up on the state of the RenovAr program during a period of intense economic tumult and political change.

In January 2018, President Donald Trump announced steep tariffs on solar imports, at once plunging the US solar industry into uncertainty and deeply angering vital trade partners such as China, South Korea, and the European Union. The tariffs were in response to a complaint made by two bankrupt solar companies seeking protection against cheap solar imports. The companies invoked a rarely used provision of the 1974 United States Trade Act, Section 201 (safeguards), and argued that antidumping and countervailing duties imposed on China in 2012 had done little to stem the flow of solar products because Chinese producers had simply moved production to countries such as Malaysia and South Korea, where the duties did not apply. Five years after enduring a series of bruising trade battles, the global solar industry was once again in the eye of a rapidly escalating trade storm. Amid an unprecedented number of trade disputes at the WTO, the role of safeguards had suddenly taken center stage. Yet, the application of safeguards in the global trading system had been historically rife with problems. This case is designed to be taught in follow up to HKS Case 1992.0: Shaping the Future of Solar Power: Climate Change, Industrial Policy and Free Trade.

The case covers the two-year, on-again off-again negotiation between the Government of Uganda and the fearsome rebel group, the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) led by Joseph Kony. The negotiations marked a historic moment for many reasons. After decades of failing to root out Kony and his rebel army capable of horrific acts of violence, and faced with millions of internally displaced people, the Ugandan government embarked on peace talks with the LRA. But neither party had come to the negotiating table willingly. Kony faced arrest by the International Criminal Court (ICC) for crimes against humanity and the Ugandan government faced pressure from international donors and the pan-African leadership to find a peaceful solution to a long-simmering conflict. In the end, the negotiations didn't result in a peace agreement and Kony remained at-large, but these historic talks provide much fodder for analysis for students of negotiation and raise many critical questions, including on whether to pursue peace or justice. The case package includes a 16-minute video featuring an interview with Ruhakana Rugunda, the Government of Uganda's chief negotiator, and a 3:11-minute video where Luis Moreno Ocampo, former Chief Prosecutor of the ICC, talks about the Court's role. Rugunda's video consists of 11 clips that can be played separately during the class session to frame specific discussions, such as Kony and the ICC and what success would have looked like for the government.

In 2015, Mauricio Macri became President of Argentina and declared solving the energy crisis one of his top priorities. When Macri attempted to raise utility tariffs, however, he faced loud protests from citizens. In search of solutions to growing shortages, the government seized on Argentina's still largely untapped, but potentially vast renewable energy sector and created an ambitious program called RenovAr (renew in Spanish). By 2016, the country's share of renewable energy stood at less than 2 percent of the power mix. RenovAr's goal was to raise that percentage to 20 percent by 2025. An ambitious plan for an economy still reeling from the 2001 default. This case describes the business friendly Macri administration's strategy to attract private investment in the nascent renewable energy sector, under challenging macroeconomic conditions. Sequel is forthcoming.

IDinsight, an evaluation company founded by graduates of the Harvard Kennedy School, designs and conducts evaluations that best suit the needs of clients across the developing world, offering timely and rigorous evidence to help decision making. In 2014, USAID approached IDinsight to conduct an evaluation of an affordable solar lantern developed by another social organization, d.light. IDinsight would have to assess whether d.light's innovation was worth subsidizing and scaling in other parts of Africa and the world. This case describes the decisions and challenges IDinsight faced when conducting the evaluation and presents the results of the evaluation for students to consider. This case includes a 10:45 min. video where Neil Buddy Shah, CEO and Co-Founder of IDinsight, describes the company's approach to evaluating anti-poverty programs in developing countries. Shah also explains what evaluation design was ultimately chosen, why, and what the results of the evaluation were. Segments from the video can be used as a way to reveal this information as part of the class discussion.

In 2015, Mauricio Macri became President of Argentina and declared solving the energy crisis as one of his top priorities. When Macri's administration attempted to raise utility tariffs, however, it faced loud protests from citizens. In search of solutions to growing shortages, the government seized on Argentina's still largely untapped, but potentially vast renewable energy sector and created an ambitious program called RenovAr (renew in Spanish). By 2016, the country's share of renewable energy stood at less than 2 percent of the power mix. RenovAr's goal was to raise that percentage to 20 percent by 2025. More renewable energy in the electric system was a welcome improvement, but seamlessly integrating renewables into electricity grids had proven challenging in many countries. Argentina's cash-strapped wholesale electricity market, which for the better part of two decades had seen few upgrades, would have to contend with a host of expected and unexpected bottlenecks.

In 2013, Educate Girls (an Indian nonprofit working to increase the number of girls enrolled and learning in school), partnered with Instiglio, a startup specializing in financial instruments for social programs in developing countries to create the first Development Impact Bond-a financial instrument similar to a Social Impact Bond. UBS Optimus, a Swiss foundation, agreed to act as the investor and the London-based Children's Investment Fund Foundation would reimburse UBS Optimus' initial investment and pay returns if Educate Girls met or exceeded a set of predetermined goals. Instiglio would broker the deal and IDinsight, a new evaluation organization would conduct the evaluation. Agreeing on the evaluation design, however, proved challenging. An evaluation was vital to the DIB because success payments hinged on its findings, but Educate Girls was concerned that the investors and evaluators were not considering the realities of program implementation when proposing complex evaluation methods. Whereas, the investors and evaluators were not interested in backing a DIB where the impact findings could be open to question. This case places students in the decision room with the DIB parties and asks them to grapple with the tradeoffs social organizations and evaluators often have to face. The 8-minute video supplement can be used toward the end of the class discussion to reveal to students how the parties resolved their differences and signed on to the DIB.

There is little doubt that China will be a significant power in the 21st century. The question is what kind of global actor will it be? This two-part case (presented in a single document) takes a comprehensive look at China's extraordinary rise in economic, military and diplomatic terms, and provides historical perspective on China's relationships with neighboring countries as well as the United States. Part B of the case immerses students in one of the most important geopolitical tests China faces today--its conflicts in the South China Sea--and includes commentary from experts on China's seemingly contradictory goals in the region.

Supplement to case KS1261. In March 2012, a flagship vocational program in Punjab, Pakistan-the Punjab Skills Development Fund (PSDF)-hit a roadblock. After months of planning, a pilot phase of training courses was launched in four of Punjab's poorest districts. The classes filled up, but the researchers in charge of evaluating PSDF's programs were worried. Earlier research indicated that a large portion of the target population-including a large number of women-were interested in vocational training. But, when it came time to enroll in the classes only a small fraction of the population showed up. The researchers wanted to find out why, before the program scaled up, but any delays in rolling out the program funded by the United Kingdom's Department for International Development and the Punjab government would not bode well for PSDF. A unique public-private partnership, PSDF hoped to overhaul skills training in Pakistan by using an evidence-based, demand-driven approach. At the core of the model was a close partnership between researchers and practitioners. But embedding rigorous research in a development program did not in and of itself ensure success. Instead, with PSDF, the approach created serious tensions between policymakers and researchers, as administrative demands routinely flew in the face of applying evidence-based program design. Case number 2122.1

In March 2012, a flagship vocational program in Punjab, Pakistan-the Punjab Skills Development Fund (PSDF)-hit a roadblock. After months of planning, a pilot phase of training courses was launched in four of Punjab's poorest districts. The classes filled up, but the researchers in charge of evaluating PSDF's programs were worried. Earlier research indicated that a large portion of the target population-including a large number of women-were interested in vocational training. But, when it came time to enroll in the classes only a small fraction of the population showed up. The researchers wanted to find out why, before the program scaled up, but any delays in rolling out the program funded by the United Kingdom's Department for International Development and the Punjab government would not bode well for PSDF. A unique public-private partnership, PSDF hoped to overhaul skills training in Pakistan by using an evidence-based, demand-driven approach. At the core of the model was a close partnership between researchers and practitioners. But embedding rigorous research in a development program did not in and of itself ensure success. Instead, with PSDF, the approach created serious tensions between policymakers and researchers, as administrative demands routinely flew in the face of applying evidence-based program design. Case number 2122.0

In 2012, amid much fanfare, Peru's President Ollanta Humala launched an ambitious program on early childhood development called Cuna Más. The program, based on a successful home visiting intervention in Jamaica, was designed to improve the cognitive and emotional development of children below the age of three, living in poverty. The government's aim was to scale the program nationwide. Initially, despite the logistical challenges of reaching rural communities in a geographically diverse country-from communities residing high up in the Andes to those deep in the Amazon jungle-the program grew at a rapid rate, increasing coverage by 50 percent or more each year between 2012 and 2015. By early 2016, however, Cuna Más encountered a formidable set of challenges. Amid political pressure to increase coverage quickly, the program had to ensure that it continued to deliver a quality service-even as Cuna Más staff navigated the delicate task of convincing communities to adopt a program that, at its heart, relied on the willingness of families to let strangers into their homes. Cuna Más staff was nonetheless hopeful. In many instances, it was the first social program to reach remote, vulnerable populations across Peru. But some civil society groups that had initially hailed President Humala for focusing on early childhood now argued that the program was hobbled by operational challenges that threatened the long-term sustainability of the program. As the April 2016 elections loomed on the horizon a crucial question about Humala's flagship program lingered. Could Cuna Más deliver with quality at scale? Case number 2115.0

Supplement to case KS1235. In October 2015, two senior California officials: Marybel Batjer, Secretary for Government Operations, and Michael Wilkening, Undersecretary for the Health and Human Services Agency seized on an idea that had the potential to turn the state's long dysfunctional technology procurement process on its head. After years of planning, California was about to request bids for a new child welfare management system to replace a twenty-year-old technology that, as part of the country's largest child welfare program, was accessed by approximately 25,000 state and county employees, to serve millions of California's children. The request for bids called for a "waterfall" approach to software development, where all aspects of the project would follow a pre-ordained sequence and likely cost the state nearly half a billion dollars. Just weeks before the request was to be released Batjer and Wilkening met with former U.S. Chief Technology Officer Todd Park and members of a tech nonprofit, Code for America, who warned that both the waterfall approach and the large size of the project posed significant risks. First, they proposed an alternative "architecture" that would break up the "monolith" proposal into its component parts. Rather than build and replace one giant system with another, why not replace the system in parts-or in modules? Second, for each of these modules, teams of programmers and social workers could work together to build a prototype and iterate till the final product satisfied the needs of the state-in a process known as "agile" development. But could California's bureaucracy, with its stringent procurement rules pivot to a modular approach? And could Batjer and Wilkening convince state staff and county partners to experiment with agile development, a methodology never attempted in California government before?

In October 2015, two senior California officials: Marybel Batjer, Secretary for Government Operations, and Michael Wilkening, Undersecretary for the Health and Human Services Agency seized on an idea that had the potential to turn the state's long dysfunctional technology procurement process on its head. After years of planning, California was about to request bids for a new child welfare management system to replace a twenty-year-old technology that, as part of the country's largest child welfare program, was accessed by approximately 25,000 state and county employees, to serve millions of California's children. The request for bids called for a "waterfall" approach to software development, where all aspects of the project would follow a pre-ordained sequence and likely cost the state nearly half a billion dollars. Just weeks before the request was to be released Batjer and Wilkening met with former U.S. Chief Technology Officer Todd Park and members of a tech nonprofit, Code for America, who warned that both the waterfall approach and the large size of the project posed significant risks. First, they proposed an alternative "architecture" that would break up the "monolith" proposal into its component parts. Rather than build and replace one giant system with another, why not replace the system in parts-or in modules? Second, for each of these modules, teams of programmers and social workers could work together to build a prototype and iterate till the final product satisfied the needs of the state-in a process known as "agile" development. But could California's bureaucracy, with its stringent procurement rules pivot to a modular approach? And could Batjer and Wilkening convince state staff and county partners to experiment with agile development, a methodology never attempted in California government before? Case number 2101.0

Supplement to case KS1231. This case traces the sexual assault scandal that rocked the United States Air Force Academy in 2003. Over a period of several months, dozens of current and former female students came forward to the media and government representatives about being sexually assaulted by their male peers on campus. Several victims also implicated the Academy's leadership for not doing enough to address the problem. When the scandal broke, Lieutenant General John Dallager was the Academy Superintendent (equal to President of a civilian university). The Academy's decade-old sexual assault program guaranteed confidentiality for victims of sexual assault. The program also offered a slew of prevention and support services. Many Academy staff regarded the sexual assault program as the "gold standard." But the rising number of allegations shined a harsh light on the Academy's culture and immediately cast doubts on Dallager's leadership. Why had he and other senior officials at the Academy failed to notice the scale of the problem? Or had they willfully ignored it? Case number 2098.1

This case traces the sexual assault scandal that rocked the United States Air Force Academy in 2003. Over a period of several months, dozens of current and former female students came forward to the media and government representatives about being sexually assaulted by their male peers on campus. Several victims also implicated the Academy's leadership for not doing enough to address the problem. When the scandal broke, Lieutenant General John Dallager was the Academy Superintendent (equal to President of a civilian university). The Academy's decade-old sexual assault program guaranteed confidentiality for victims of sexual assault. The program also offered a slew of prevention and support services. Many Academy staff regarded the sexual assault program as the "gold standard." But the rising number of allegations shined a harsh light on the Academy's culture and immediately cast doubts on Dallager's leadership. Why had he and other senior officials at the Academy failed to notice the scale of the problem? Or had they willfully ignored it? Case number 2098.0

The Trans Pacific Partnership (TPP)-a massive free trade agreement between the United States, Japan and ten other Pacific nations-was a vital element of US President Barack Obama's trade policy. If completed, the TPP would be the largest regional trade agreement in history, accounting for 40 percent of the global economy, and nearly one-third of global trade. In 2015, after five years of negotiations the TPP countries were close to agreement. But one major obstacle remained. US President Barack Obama had not yet received Trade Promotion Authority (formerly known as fast track)-a legislative measure that gave the President the authority to present a finalized trade agreement for an up or down vote in the U.S. Congress. In the Spring of 2015, the White House had just a few short weeks to secure fast track, before the next scheduled round of TPP negotiations, and before the US Congress recessed for the summer. But if the past was any guide, Obama was about to face a bruising battle with Congress, where the TPP had already proved divisive. A large swath of Obama's own Democratic caucus was vociferously against the trade agreement. Most Republicans on the other hand, welcomed the TPP. Just as President Bill Clinton had done in the 1990s, Obama would have to forge an uncomfortable alliance with some of his fiercest opponents in the Republican Party to ensure the survival of his ambitious trade agenda. In doing so he would have to confront fellow Democrats, who were being lobbied heavily by labor unions and consumer groups to vote against Trade Promotion Authority. Case number 2095.0

This sequel accompanies case KS1170. In 2008, British Columbia became one of the few jurisdictions in the world to successfully implement a comprehensive carbon tax. The architect of the tax, Premier Gordon Campbell, championed the broad-based carbon tax that applied to nearly all fossil fuels and made it "revenue neutral." Every dollar raised from the tax would be returned to BC residents and businesses in the form of personal income and corporate tax cuts. Campbell was an unlikely proponent of the carbon tax. As the leader of the traditionally conservative BC Liberal Party, he had cut taxes in the past, but now he had reason to believe a revenue neutral carbon tax could be a winner for both the environment and the economy. But with elections just months away and growing public distrust of the tax, combined with a noisy campaign against the tax mounted by the opposition New Democratic Party, the tax's fate, and that of Campbell's political career was far from certain. This case provides an insider's account of how the carbon tax was designed, with the strong role Premier Gordon Campbell played in its creation. It also explores political and other challenges the government faced when designing and implementing the tax.

In 2008, British Columbia became one of the few jurisdictions in the world to successfully implement a comprehensive carbon tax. The architect of the tax, Premier Gordon Campbell, championed the broad-based carbon tax that applied to nearly all fossil fuels and made it "revenue neutral." Every dollar raised from the tax would be returned to BC residents and businesses in the form of personal income and corporate tax cuts. Campbell was an unlikely proponent of the carbon tax. As the leader of the traditionally conservative BC Liberal Party, he had cut taxes in the past, but now he had reason to believe a revenue neutral carbon tax could be a winner for both the environment and the economy. But with elections just months away and growing public distrust of the tax, combined with a noisy campaign against the tax mounted by the opposition New Democratic Party, the tax's fate, and that of Campbell's political career was far from certain. This case provides an insider's account of how the carbon tax was designed, with the strong role Premier Gordon Campbell played in its creation. It also explores political and other challenges the government faced when designing and implementing the tax.

In July 2013, more than 150 negotiators from the European Union and the United States converged in Washington, D.C. to begin crafting what could become the world's largest free trade agreement-the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership (TTIP). Billed as a transformational trade accord, the TTIP would go beyond tariffs to cut non-tariff barriers, expand trade in services, streamline regulatory standards, and incorporate trade elements to suit a rapidly evolving global economy. American and European leaders had pushed for the TTIP in the hope that it would provide a much-needed boost to struggling American and European economies, which were mired in recession and high unemployment since 2008, and buckling under rising competition from China. But the negotiators, faced a sobering reality, "the reason we have not had a trade agreement like this between ourselves in the last several decades isn't because nobody thought of it," said Michael Froman, United States Trade Representative. "It's because there have always been issues that have tripped us up." Under intense political pressure and rising public scrutiny, will the negotiating teams be able to reduce trade barriers between the two economic giants? This case explores how in the absence of multilateral trade liberalization, regional trade agreements are becoming increasingly popular. With an in-depth account of the political and technical challenges in negotiating a mega regional accord, the case questions if political will or the need for economic growth can overcome longtime barriers to deeper trade integration.