Shifting the power in global development: Should we stay or should we go now?

As I enter my final six months at the Hewlett Foundation, it’s a good time to consider what I have learned as a grantmaker. As I have just celebrated a milestone birthday (New Year’s Day 2021) and mark 30+ years in the global development profession, I also find myself (a white American woman) reflecting on my career and its meaning. I have often asked myself (and still do): Why have I chosen this work, what’s the appropriate role for me, and how do I exercise it responsibly and ethically? Am I doing more harm than good? At the risk of dating myself and my musical tastes, this could all be summed up by the lyrics of the Clash’s 80s hit “Should I stay or should I go now?”

This blog is the first in a series that will examine questions about power and offer ideas for more equitable partnerships and reimagining global development—both at a personal level and across the field. I—along with some of my program colleagues—will be writing more about this, including through interviews and conversations with people and organizations that are funded by the Hewlett Foundation and in a variety of ways contributing to shaping new ideas and practices.

An ongoing journey

Of course, I am not the only one asking these questions—this backgrounder by the Reimagining International NGOs (RINGO) project is essential reading. For more than 30 years many have been questioning whether development assistance, or “aid,” benefits the giver or the recipient more, and the perverse incentives, inequities, and racism that are embedded in how it is structured and delivered. It’s no secret that public funding from government aid agencies (like USAID and other bilaterals) was conceived and put into place as colonized countries gained their independence and the United States and Europe were engaged in a Cold War for regional domination and influence. Although how support to communities and governments in the Global South has been periodically tweaked through reform efforts, not a whole lot has changed in terms of the underlying assumptions and values that underpin it. Likewise, the expansion of private money flowing from philanthropy and civil society in the Global North over the past few decades, while aspiring to be innovative and “people-centered” is often centered on the givers’ values and norms. Angela Bruce-Raeburn, a leading advocate for the decolonizing development aid movement, in her recent Vital Strategies interview describes this:

“While we are encouraged to talk openly about diversity, equity and inclusion, if we dig deeper, we realize that diversity and inclusion do not speak to the entrenched racialized power imbalances that define those who receive aid and those who deliver it. By continuing to work within those structures that are donor-led rather than people-led, we are not going to be effective and frankly, what we are doing is not humanitarian work.” (Bruce-Raeburn, 2021)

Fast forward to today, when a number of movements and hashtags, namely #decolonizedevelopment, #AidToo and #shiftthepower, have breathed new oxygen into this conversation. These notwithstanding, earlier efforts started to reshape how we collectively think about overseas development assistance (ODA). The OECD Paris Accord and the 2030 Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) combined embodied new commitments for country governments and their people shaping and leading the agenda, increasing domestic finance, renewing global resources devoted to financing the SDGs, shared accountability, and notably for the first time, a recognition that for the SDGs to be achieved, they must be universal.

Still, bilateral aid agencies (including USAID and DFID) struggle to make the case for maintaining the status quo, let alone increasing, their ODA budgets. At the same time, people are calling on their governments to do more. A recent Afrobarometer opinion survey found that the majority of Africans in 18 countries think that financing for development should for the most part be sourced domestically. In some places, this coincides with shrinking civic space, new restrictions imposed by host governments on the operations of international NGOs and a growing “crisis of legitimacy” questioning whose interests INGOs represent. Yet, there is an ever-expanding landscape of dynamic civil society organizations and social movements in the Global South. Some have professional staff, experience providing technical assistance and undertaking advocacy campaigns to improve services and people’s quality of life, and an impressive track-record partnering with INGOs, bilateral funders, and private foundations; others have their origins as community activists and grassroots civic groups connected with local religious and cultural institutions, trade unions, mutual aid groups/societies, people’s movements and social media networking.

With so many questioning the legitimacy and role of INGOs and so much under-utilized or untapped local capacity, what’s next? I, and others, think that it is an opportune time to pursue systems-level change.