H. M. Nazmul Alam :
Over the past decade, Bangladesh has spent nearly twenty-two thousand crore taka on training its government employees. The figure alone suggests a nation deeply invested in upgrading the skills and efficiency of its bureaucracy.
But as the numbers rise, public trust in government services continues to fall. Citizens still queue for hours for a passport, struggle for basic services at land and tax offices, face extortion in the name of police assistance, and endure endless paperwork to get electricity or water connections. The paradox is unsettling. How can a state that spends such an enormous amount on capacity-building show so little improvement in governance?
The contradiction between expenditure and outcome is not just an accounting anomaly but a moral and administrative failure. According to data from the Finance Department, spending on training has climbed every year: from 1,383 crore taka in 2016-17 to nearly 3,959 crore in 2023-24. The latest budgets continue this trend, allocating 3,625 crore taka in the revised 2024-25 fiscal plan and another 4,100 crore for 2025-26. Yet, the efficiency of government employees, by most public measures, has not improved. In some cases, it has worsened.
A massive survey conducted by the Public Administration Reform Commission, involving 150,000 respondents, paints a bleak picture. Every single participant expressed dissatisfaction with government healthcare services. Half of them believed police assistance is impossible without bribery.
Four out of five citizens said the existing administrative system is not people-friendly, and nearly all agreed that public administration lacks transparency and accountability. The perception that corruption is the root of all dysfunction remains dominant among respondents. If these are the results after spending twenty-two thousand crore taka on training, one must ask whether the state is investing in skills or sustaining a cycle of bureaucratic indulgence.
The fundamental problem lies in the purpose and practice of training itself. Ideally, training programs should aim to improve the efficiency, ethics, and service orientation of civil servants.
In reality, they have become institutionalized opportunities for allowances, travel, and honorarium. The system rewards attendance, not performance. Employees participate in workshops and seminars that neither challenge their competence nor demand measurable results.
In some ministries, trainees are more qualified than their trainers. When the training environment turns into a ceremonial exercise rather than a learning space, it becomes a theatre of inefficiency performed with taxpayer money.
The incentive structure makes matters worse. The Finance Department recently increased training allowances and honoraria for government officials. A joint secretary now receives 3,600 taka for a single one-hour training session, while lower-ranked officials earn proportionally higher daily allowances. Such financial attractions have transformed training into a lucrative side income rather than a professional necessity. The more workshops organized, the more allowances can be drawn. As a result, the system breeds a quiet competition among departments to create as many “training opportunities” as possible. The objective is not to enhance skills but to maximize financial benefits.
Allegations of irregularities and outright corruption in this sector are widespread. Instances have emerged where allowances were withdrawn without any training being conducted, signatures forged to claim attendance, and funds embezzled by inflating the number of trainees. During the pandemic lockdowns, several agencies reported training sessions that existed only on paper. Even foreign training programs, supposedly prestigious opportunities to learn global best practices, have often been reduced to paid vacations. Cases have surfaced where senior officials, only months away from retirement, were nominated for international refresher courses.
Such practices expose a deeper institutional malaise. The culture of accountability is weak, and the oversight mechanisms function more as formalities than deterrents. The Comptroller and Auditor General has uncovered cases where training allowances were distributed without any evidence of actual programs being held. Investigations by the Anti-Corruption Commission into training-related misappropriations, including those linked to major elections, indicate how systemic the problem has become. Training funds have turned into a convenient channel for legal corruption, protected by procedural loopholes and bureaucratic solidarity.
The irony is that while the government continues to justify this spending as an investment in human capital, the actual human outcomes remain invisible. Bureaucratic efficiency cannot be improved by PowerPoint slides or hotel conferences. It requires consistent evaluation, feedback, and the ability to apply acquired skills in relevant fields. Yet, in Bangladesh’s public administration, officers are often transferred shortly after completing their training, sometimes to entirely unrelated ministries. Whatever technical or managerial knowledge they may have gained is lost in translation. The result is a perpetual loop of learning without application, a bureaucratic treadmill that moves but goes nowhere.
Even when officials attend foreign training, the impact rarely reaches the institutions they serve. Reports are seldom shared publicly, and there is no system to assess whether the knowledge acquired has been integrated into policy or practice. In many cases, the choice of participants reflects seniority rather than suitability. The assumption seems to be that the higher the rank, the greater the entitlement to travel. This not only undermines the principle of meritocracy but also deprives mid-level professionals, who actually implement policies, of opportunities for meaningful development.
A rational system of training must be rooted in accountability and performance. Each program should have clear objectives linked to institutional outcomes. Participants should be selected based on relevance, not hierarchy. Completion certificates should follow independent evaluation, not attendance records. Training reports should be made publicly available, and departments should demonstrate how the acquired skills have been applied. Most importantly, the financial structure that incentivizes frequency over quality must be redesigned. Allowances and honoraria should be tied to demonstrable results, not routine participation.
There is also a need to address the culture of constant transfers. When officials are moved every few months, the institutional memory and expertise built through training dissipate. Stability in postings is essential if knowledge is to translate into performance. The International Monetary Fund has already noted this issue, recommending that Bangladesh reduce frequent transfers to build administrative capacity. Implementing such advice would be a practical step toward ensuring that training produces tangible outcomes rather than empty expenditures.
Ultimately, training is not an end in itself but a means to serve the public better. If citizens continue to experience harassment, bribery, and inefficiency at every stage of service delivery, then the entire system of bureaucratic development stands discredited. It becomes a façade maintained at great public cost to sustain a privileged class of officials who learn little but earn much.
(The writer is an Academic, Journalist, and Political Analyst based in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Currently he is teaching at IUBAT. He can be reached at [email protected])
