According to surveys, fewer than half of Canadians know of or can state the purpose of our grandly named, once proud, once vigorous Canadian International Development Agency.

I can't say I'm surprised.

For CIDA, which is supposed to be the standard-bearer of Canada's humanitarian face in the world, has long been reduced to a timid, risk-averse, unfocused and curiously publicity-shy minor player within the ever-thickening shadows of Ottawa bureaucracy.

There is a deeply serious problem with this, which cuts to the very question of Canada's position in the world.

CIDA official mission statement , we need to remind ourselves, is "to lead Canada's international effort to help people living in poverty."

My concern is that, given CIDA's many, increasingly vocal critics, there's a risk the agency's own decline will be mistaken for proof that foreign aid itself is doomed to fail.

Actually, some aid works well, but if this public decay continues, CIDA could drag the nation's altruistic instincts down with it.

Political burden

It's hard to remember that in the 1980s CIDA was one of the most respected international aid and development agencies in the world, a true feather in our caps.

Bev Oda in question period. Even CIDA's minister is taking shots. (Adrian Wyld/Canadian Press)

However, this was before Canada developed its global case of acute attention deficit disorder, which caused recent governments to flit like water bugs from one international objective to another without a clear strategy, focus or patience.

"Now, other donors poke fun at our CIDA use because we're so stingy and so confused and wishy-washy over our priorities," says Stephen Brown, a University of Ottawa authority on in overseas aid.

But it is not just academic experts who are upset.

"As a Tory, as opposed to a neoconservative, I regret government's lack of courage and CIDA's bureaucratic excuses," Conservative Senator Hugh Segal, a widely respected voice on foreign affairs, wrote recently.

"My concerns about CIDA are not focused on the excellent people who work there, but on the bureaucratic and political burdens that deflate CIDA and therefore Canada's aid and development abroad."

Cowed by the PMO

Segal's seems to be the consensus view among those who deal with CIDA — including overseas volunteer groups, diplomats, the military, the media, other departments — and those who've studied it, including the Senate (2007) and the auditor general (2009).

The rot is not among the staff members, who are often very bright and dedicated.

The real problem is that CIDA time and again is suffocated by a political management system that rewards weakness and indecision, while shunning imagination.

Part of the problem is CIDA’s revolving-door leadership — five ministers since 2000 and a dizzying array of top leaders.

There have also been no less than six broad strategic plans since 1995. No wonder the place seems in a perpetual state of self doubt.

There's no one government, Conservative or Liberal, entirely to blame for CIDA's weak state. But under Stephen Harper, bureaucratic timidity in Ottawa has assumed legendary proportions.

The micro-management style of the Prime Minister's Office has intimidated all departments. But CIDA appears to have become especially paranoid about attracting attention.

As a reporter, I never felt a year was complete without launching yet another futile attempt to interview the minister in charge of CIDA or, taking rashness to an extreme, asking to film inside its headquarters.

Both these modest requests never seemed to go anywhere.

CIDA was clearly afraid to answer questions in detail or expose its operation to outsiders because openness carried the risk that even mild criticism would result in its top management being dragged to the PMO woodshed.

All of official Ottawa was cowed at this prospect, but it turned the ever-meek CIDA into a borderline recluse.

Even the minister's whipping boy

CIDA today is responsible for spending the bulk of Canada's $5 billion foreign aid budget.

But development groups in the field routinely say they find it difficult to get decisions from head office, which makes long-term aid projects next to impossible.

"Waiting for CIDA" is one of the most commonly heard expressions in the aid community.

Perhaps never before has Ottawa had such a universally acknowledged whipping boy.

Even the minister in charge of CIDA, Bev Oda, has joined in the general criticism. (Oda heads the agency but does not sit in cabinet, an indication of the status foreign aid is given.)

In an Embassy Magazine interview in May, Oda seemed so dismissive of the limited skills within her department that she appears close to baby talk to get her points across.

"I've said this at CIDA," the minister is quoted saying. "Tell me what you want to accomplish, tell me what you want to accomplish. Start with that. Then tell me how much it's going to cost."

Pass the bucks please

This breathtaking example of ministerial buck-passing infuriated many inside CIDA, especially as staffers have lived for years with extraordinarily strict "results-based management" rules, which demanded detailed analysis of every project.

Indeed, in 2007 it was revealed CIDA took an agonizing 43 months to get overseas projects approved.

The fact that CIDA is now being fired upon even from within its own tight circle of wagons may amuse some in Ottawa. But rigorous studies of CIDA leave no doubt where the fault lies — with its upper management and political masters.

This month the auditor general became the latest to conclude that "frequent changes in priorities and policy direction, a lack of clear direction and weak management have hampered CIDA's ability to deliver foreign aid more effectively."

As Auditor General Sheila Fraser notes: "Donor partners, recipient governments, and program staff are unclear about the agency's direction and long-term commitment [while] the nature of international development calls for stable, long-term programming."

Ultimately, the responsibility for CIDA's lack of coherence rests with the government of the day for if it continues to dodge long-term global aid and development commitments, how much clarity can we expect?

There are many suggestions around Parliament and within the aid community about how to fix CIDA, starting with giving it more administrative independence — in effect, letting it finally grow up after 41 years.

But perhaps Canada needs something quite different altogether. Only by having real influence in government will an agency such as CIDA be able to focus Ottawa's attention.

So there's a growing feeling among those concerned about Canada's role in the world that CIDA should be merged into some new foreign aid ministry, perhaps one modeled on Britain's influential department for international development, which has its own, usually senior, minister.

That would require, of course, that Ottawa ditch its past, uncoordinated and unpredictable approach to world poverty and replace this with a real vision and actual attention to detail.

But given the past record, I'm not holding my breath.