I wrote a column a few weeks ago about the dangers of charity - that it could potentially do worse than nothing, that it often did more for the giver than the receiver.
In the aftermath of that column, I worried that I would incite serious anti-charity sentiment among Battlefordians. Possibly overestimating my own rhetorical abilities, I had visions of locals making rueful calls to charities they had given to for years, citing irreconcilable differences. Sitting their kids down to explain that they wouldn't be saving the whales this year because the whole enterprise of whale-saving was crudely sublimated post-colonial guilt. Taking long, hard looks at their chequebooks to find a better way to spend money and deciding, after much thought, on a second spoiler for their car.
I'm exaggerating, obviously, but I was concerned that people would take the message in my article a bit too far. I still stand by what I wrote - that much "charity" is worse than doing nothing, that often a charitable instinct often has more to do with feeling good than doing it and that there are plenty of terrible charities in the world.
But I wanted to add some nuance to my account, so I contacted a friend of mine who had worked for a large development organization in Bangladesh. While I had visited him there, several months into his internship, he had been deeply skeptical about the work his organization did, and I was interested in what he had to say after he had returned to Canada.
Of course, much of what he had to say concerned his organization specifically - their organization, bureaucratic issues and so on. But the experience also left him with some more general insights.
This is all especially important because Invisible Children, the NGO I mentioned in my earlier column who produced the Kony 2012 video, have been widely discredited and command nowhere near the attention they did one month ago. Some of the reasons for this change are good ones, and some are not. I wanted to write this column in part because I don't want people to distance themselves from charities for the wrong reasons.
One of the first things my friend told me about development organizations is that they can't be expected to do too much. Fundraising pitches are always full of either sad, resigned children, or whooping, ecstatic mobs running towards the camera. Either image is an exaggeration, but they deliver two sides of the same argument - things are bad in other parts of the world. Through your donations, you can make them good.
But the reality on the ground is always more complicated. Good development organizations keep records concerning the work they have done, and these records are hardly something that a TV spot could have been made of. "Empowerment of women" might just mean wives are being beaten less often. Micro-loans given to women might "empower" them by giving them more of a say in household expenses, but not by making them equal to men.
Some people might be scared away from an organization that promises "empowerment" and produces small-scale, comparatively minor social changes. But this, ultimately, is the nature of the beast. Poverty will not be eliminated, or even significantly reduced, by a nongovernmental organization. Changes in the status of women, likewise, will not come about through sudden starts - it didn't happen quickly in our culture and won't happen quickly in another. At the end of the day, small, enduring changes are all that can be hoped for.
We also talked about the power of development organizations in the countries where they operate. I was reminded of a single image from my travels. The biggest traffic jams I ever saw in Nepal occurred when a UN-owned Land Rover had to barrel through some 100-year-old cobblestoned streets. Because the Land Rover (a Western vehicle) was too wide for the roads, every other vehicle had to pull over to let it pass. There was inevitably a well-heeled diplomat sitting in the passenger seat of the Land Rover, checking his cell phone.
Most Canadians have no history with development organizations, but to many in countries considered "third world," they are a fact of life. With their funding and social status, many NGOs are quasi-governments in the countries where they work. One NGO in Bangladesh, for example, works with rural women, runs its own university and sells chickens, among a host of other ventures.
NGOs in general have profound authority where they operate. But they are not omnipotent. What this means more practically is they operate within existing power structures. If a development organization wants to set up a program in a village, it will do so through those in the village who already have power. Creating a large-scale venture will also, inevitably, involve some bribes to important officials.
Because of this, NGOs are often accused of supporting the status quo or propping up illegitimate governments. And to a certain extent, they always will. An NGO devoted to saving gorillas will eventually have to kowtow to the current government, regardless of how much corruption there is. Likewise, a poverty-reduction organization might have to work with the governments and businesses that had a hand in creating the poverty itself.
This, in itself isn't a condemnation. But it can be in some egregious cases. Invisible Children, for example, was accused of working with the current Ugandan regime to catch Joseph Kony, and this regime is accused of many of the same atrocities as Kony himself. Without knowing much about Uganda, this seems to be a serious issue.
Finally, it's important to remember that some proportion of any money donated will always go towards administration.
Charities and development organizations need to paint themselves as squeaky-clean, modern, progressive groups. They need to present the argument that money donated has a concrete, measurable effect. But the truth is far more discouraging. No problems can be solved with money alone, and the best NGOs can hope for is minute, incremental changes. For every dollar that is donated to NGOs, some proportion will go to administration, and some proportion will go to bribes.
So don't stop trying to save orangutans just because a chunk of the money donated goes to administration, or because another chunk might go to pay off a corrupt government minister. Don't give up on the whole notion of micro-loans because it hasn't made men and women equal, or made deep reductions to rural poverty. Don't expect miracles. But do look critically at charities - at how their funds are distributed and what, exactly, is done with those funds.
