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also shown that different types of failure led to different sorts of policy learning (O’Donovan, 2017).
In contexts of policy import, failure and learning are discussed in a restricted set of terms. In policy
transfer and lesson-drawing literatures rooted in positivist ontologies, learning leads to policy
movement (Dolowitz, 2009; Dolowitz et al., 2019; Rose, 1993). Other attempts of linking learning to
transfer have mushroomed since, but they have focused on understanding how learning manifests
before leading to transfer or how local actors learn from experts before engaging in transfer (Dunlop,
2009). In policy mobilities, the conversation on learning and failure has been more political and
scholars have noted how haphazard both processes can be, and how important it is to study both
processes in longer timeframes (Duarte et al., 2011; Silvestre & Jajamovich, 2022; Temenos, 2024).
Still, in both sensitivities, policy failure has mostly been portrayed as a failure to adapt a foreign policy
to a new local context (Stein et al., 2017). Yet, this bias tends to prevent us from making an important
link: failure which can be attributed to the traveling policy itself.
To elaborate on this bridge, I focus on a specific category of policies which has proliferated in
all sectors: the traveling model. As theorized by Jean-Pierre Olivier de Sardan taking after Richard
Rottenburg’s work, a traveling model is a standardized institutional intervention, often a policy, a
project or a programme, designed to foster social and behavioral change on one or several categories
of actors (Olivier de Sardan, 2021; Rottenburg, 2009). They rely on various mechanisms and
dispositifs and are supposed to have intrinsic properties which make them efficient regardless of their
context (Olivier de Sardan, 2018). This type of policy, designed to be ready-to-use in new cities or
countries and are often labeled best practices. They stem from an initial iteration of a policy which is
then standardized by a group of actors often akin to an epistemic community, and they are highly
branded and promoted by persuasive practitioners and other policy entrepreneurs (Cook & Ward,
2012; Porto de Oliveira, 2016; Wood, 2014). In the process, important information about the policy’s
initial success in its context of emergence is either hidden or relegated to the background and
importing actors are only presented with an embellished narrative (Montero, 2017, 2019). This
creates major knowledge asymmetries as importers are presented with a skewed conception of the
policy and this can generate policy myopia. Policymaking is always an uncertain exercise involving a
difficulty in assessing the challenges that the future holds. However, the standardization processes of
traveling models tend to accentuate this uncertainty and cloud it in overwhelming positivity about
the policy’s outcomes in its context of creation, and myopia can easily lead to failure (Nair & Howlett,
2017). This forms the starting point of my take on the conversation around the learning-failure nexus
in the case of policy transfer, fueled by an investigation on an extremely popular traveling model: the
BRT.
III. CASE STUDIES AND METHODOLOGY
Bus Rapid Transit, abbreviated as BRT, is defined as ‘a bus-priority mode featuring high-
capacity vehicles with rubber tyres, often operating on dedicated rights of way (that is, segregated
corridors) with busway alignment, intersection priority, off-board payment and level boarding’
(Ferbrache, 2019, p. 2). Curitiba is often identified as the BRT’s birthplace. From the 1960s onwards,
the city aimed at developing a sustainable and integrated transport network to accompany its
demographic growth (Lindau et al., 2010). Planners decided to focus on improved bus systems as
opposed to rail, which would have been more expensive and less flexible: it turned out to be a winning
bet. Soon enough, other South American cities caught on and implemented their own BRT, but the
most impactful one was Curitiba’s TransMilenio. The city launched its new transport system in the
year 2000, amidst a wide range of other urban reforms. A group of actors including then-mayor
Enrique Peñalosa and organizations such as the Institute for Transport and Development Policy
(ITDP) or the World Bank promoted the policy as a cheap, quick-to-implement, and operationally
viable way of equipping cities of the Global South with mass transit systems (Wood, 2019).
Cape Town was among the dozens of cities which decided to implement their own BRT after it
gained traction beyond the borders of Latin America. The transport system was adopted in the 2000s,
as South Africa was preparing to host the 2010 FIFA World Cup and identified transport as a sector
to focus its investments in. The nation-wide BRT policy drafted in 2007 by the central government
was largely informed by recommendations of the ITDP. BRT was envisioned and presented as a
modern urban mobility option to supplement flailing existing public transport supply. Most
importantly, it was introduced as an instrument for reform targeting the unruly yet vital paratransit
industry: drivers of minibus-taxis were offered to get trained as bus operators and owners had the
opportunity to buy shares of BRT operating companies in exchange for putting an end to their