Tag Archives: Train of Thought

Ménage à trois

8 Nov

Here’s how aid works:

1) Someone pays for it. We call this person or entity a “donor.”

2) Someone else implements it. We call this person or entity an “aid provider” – usually, but not necessarily and NGO.

3) And someone else receives what the first one pays for and the second one implements. We call this person the “beneficiary”, usually for lack of a better term.

Some of us go on about the different kinds of donors, the extent to which their level of understanding and their motivations matter, what their rights are or should be in the grand scheme of things, or the extent to which they should be allowed to meddle in the workings of aid providers.

Some of us go on stridently about the different kinds of aid providers: Who should or shouldn’t be allowed to be one, what it takes to be a good one, the extent to which aid providers are or aren’t unduly influenced by the motivations of their donors, or the extent to which they should be required to share certain kinds of information.

Some of us go on passionately about the beneficiaries. What their rights are, what they can reasonably expect from donors and aid providers, what their capacities are, and the extent to which they have a role to play in the overall picture of aid.

These are vigorous, often vehement debates. And rightly so, as they all touch on important issues.

But just so that we’re all clear, none – not one – of these debates challenges the basic aid formula. None of these debates address in any substantial way the global reality of aid: that it is a giant ménage à trois between donors, aid providers and beneficiaries, each of whom approaches relationship with diverse needs and expectations, and where the aid providers’ role is primarily brokering the relationship between donors and beneficiaries.

And so you’ll forgive me, gentle reader, when I come off as more than just a tiny bit jaded with the rhetoric coming out of, say, the Cannes G20 summit. Or statements from the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation about their “innovative financing.” Or when I juxtapose what comes up when I click “draft agenda” for this year’s HLF-4 in Busan against the stated purpose of the forum “…review global progress in improving the impact and value for money of development aid and make new commitments to further ensure that aid helps reduce poverty…

I get jaded because none of these forums or discussions addresses the basic nature of the aid formula. The ménage à trois. What the Gates Foundation calls “innovative financing”, isn’t. It’s simply the latest attempt to modify the parameters of how traditional donors work and maybe change up the kinds of strings attached to donor funding. It’s also the basis for a lot of HRI-style workshops and meetings and junkets. If you want truly innovative financing for foreign aid, find a way to pay for it that doesn’t involve donors. Simple as that.

Or bringing together 2,000 representatives from around the world to review the Paris and Accra declarations for the purpose of making development aid more effective.  Am I the only one who reads “High Level Forum on Aid Effectiveness” as an oxymoron on multiple levels? For one, 2,000… coming together… to make progress on aid effectiveness… wait.. what? For another, the key to aid effectiveness is not something about the legal frameworks of a bunch of developed countries. This is focus on but one of the members of the torrid little aid ménage à trois. You want aid effectiveness on some kind of global scale, you have to deal with all three.

If you want to truly change the way aid works, you need to find a way to change the ménage à trois formula. PPP and CSR are just new kinds of donors. Mixing bilateral aid with traditional development aid, government to government capacity-building, and all of that simply adds complexity around who is a donor, who is a provider, and who is a beneficiary at the ground level. Technological and programmatic innovations (awesome as they might be) simply re-tool the ways in which aid providers continue business as usual. Humanitarian accountability and basic good process are “musts” (and I sincerely believe that they make aid better). But let’s not delude ourselves into believing that they confer any real change in status to the benefiaries of aid.

You want to be “game changing”? Find a way to change up the ménage à trois. Otherwise, you’re simply using new words to describe the same ol’.

Some days…

12 Oct

The world of humanitarian aid will eat your soul if you let it.

Stick with this job, in this industry long enough, and you will see not just the good, the bad, and the ugly, but also the very bad, the really awful, and the grotesque. It is possible to spend your days consumed by the abundant and very real wrong here. It is possible to become deeply cynical about the realities of what could be done but isn’t; by the realities of what actually happens in the field versus what is said in fundraising and PR materials; by the discrepancies between what pictures seem to portray and what you see and hear as you walk through the refugee camp. Not to mention that fact that it is difficult, largely thankless, and very often dangerous work.

I’ve written about all of these repeatedly on this blog:

We’ve all compromised our principles.

The world of aid operations and the world of aid marketing are different worlds.

We don’t tell the truth about what we do.

We basically lack the incentives to get aid right.

We’re inherently donor-driven.

These are all present realities in the aid world. And for me, the essence of staying sane in the aid world comes down to how successfully one maintains the balance of perspective between what is and what is possible.

If we fail to gain or allow ourselves to lose our grip on the reality of what is – the incredibly, depressingly ugly brokenness, messed-up UN and INGO idiocy of the aid system – we will become complacent and ultimately ineffective as change agents inside a system that very clearly has to change. We’ll be in a space of heady naïveté where it’s all good because we all mean well and just that alone makes all the little brown babies gain weight and the villagers all smile and say ‘thank you’ and they don’t seem to mind that our overhead calculation is wack. Unpleasant as it sometimes is, we have to stay connected with the facts of a ramshackle and frequently dysfunctional aid system.

On the other hand, if we lose our vision for what is possible, based on an honest understanding of past success – and there are successes: despite its dysfunction and at times questionable motives, the aid system as we know it has accomplished a great deal of very real good – we also become ineffective. If we lose sight of what is possible, we can become deeply and irretrievably cynical. We’ll be in a space where not only is it all bad, but where there’s no point in even trying to make it better. The aid workers I know personally who spend too long in this space become depressed, maybe leave the industry. Some commit suicide. Some abuse substances. Some live with mental health issues. It’s not a good place to be.

* * *

I swear, some days all I do is argue with people dumber than me. Some days all I do is explain, yet again, the most basic of basic principles of good aid to people who, for reasons I am not able to fathom, seem patently incapable of getting it. Some days the weight of a dysfunctional system feels very heavy. Some days the dark spectre of “what is” threatens to consume what is “possible.”

The hardest part of this job is not seeing awful things in the field. It’s not repeatedly witnessing the suffering of others and being able to offer little as a remedy, dealing with corrupt district officials, getting sick, or spending too long away from one’s family too often (hard as those things truly can be). The hardest part of this job is simply dealing with the crushing weight of a system that fundamentally lacks real incentives for getting right what it claims as its core purpose. Similarly, the most dangerous part of this job is not armed militants or bad drivers or  blood parasites. No, the most dangerous part of this job is the humanitarian world itself: it will eat your soul if you let it.

Some days it is about just getting through the day. Some days it comes down to a conscious decision to invoke – almost as an act of faith – the “what is possible”, in order to cope with the “what is.” Some days it’s about identifying spheres of influence, focusing my efforts in those places where I know I can make a difference, and letting the others go. Some days I have to consciously reassess where I fit into the big picture and adjust accordingly my expectations of what I can feasibly contribute. Some days it’s about finding that Zen place. Some days it takes a conscious act of will to stay.

Calling All Aid Bloggers

15 Sep

I’m going to try something new, here at Tales From the Hood.

Mark your calendars, because starting on Monday, 19 September, I will begin what I hope will become a recurring tradition of throwing a topic of consequence out to The Aid Blogosphere for comment and discussion. I encourage everyone who’s interested to blog on the topic over the following week and simply enter the URL information for their post into the space provided on the post here (you’ll understand what I mean when it publishes). You’ll get a visible link on my blog which will drive traffic to yours.

The rules of engagement:

1) Anyone with a blog can participate. You don’t have to be an aid blogger and you don’t have to have an aid-related blog. You only need a blog and an opinion on the aid-related topic that I post.

2) All opinions are welcome. You don’t have to agree with me or my perspective on the issue. The point is to generate “buzz” and discussion around an issue or topic and find out what a wide range of people think, not to build consensus.

3) Feel free to suggest topics for discussion (note that I don’t promise to run with every suggestion). Suggestions can come from anyone, blogger or not, aid worker or not. Post them in the comments thread here, DM me, post them on the Tales From the Hood Facebook wall, or send them by email (my email in the “About” link above).

4) Have fun! This is your chance to speak out on issues that matter in the context of a focused internet-wide discussion.

Hope to see all of you next week!

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