Why I Never should have Chosen to Study International Development (and Why I’m Glad that I Did)

I’ve always thought that the world is a pretty complicated place.  I’ve never really understood what sort of things I really ought to do or the sort of person that I really ought to be.  The moral ambiguity intrinsic to the human experience has often frustrated me.  But before university, I was pretty sure that I knew one thing for certain: I knew that helping others less fortunate than me was a good thing to do.  And thus I believed that studying international development would provide me with a clear understanding of what it is that the world really needs, thereby piercing through the clouds of the nebulous morality enshrouding all of life’s decisions with a ray of indubitable clarity and purpose.  Certain facts in my mind seemed indisputable: poor people need help, we know how to help them, and we have the resources to do so.  The world just needed motivated people who were willing to act in order for things to get better.

It is obvious to me now, as I’m sure it is to any of my classmates reading this blog, that this belief was somewhat misguided.  That’s because, as I soon found out, nothing at all is certain in international development.  As it turns out, poor people don’t necessarily need help.  And often when we think we know how to help them, we only make things worse.  And resources are not unlimited, which means that short term improvements in human well-being may actually make everything more difficult in the long run.  In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever studied a problem in my three years of university so far, where all of the ‘experts’ agreed on any one ‘right’ course of action.

In fact, if moral clarity was something that I had really wanted, then international development was probably one of the worst areas of study that I could have chosen.  This is true not only because every situation in the field is so complicated, but because every problem in international development has incredibly high stakes, since every development decision has the potential to interfere with the life of some other human being in a fundamental way.  When international development institutions debate whether or not to provide food aid to people in need, when they consider whether or not health care provision is a viable option in a remote area, or when they consider whether or not loans should be used as incentives to reform governments to promote growth, the implications of these decisions on individual humans living in the Global South can be life-changing.  And while it may seem arrogant to assume that the choices we make in the Global North can be so important to the rest of the world, the massive levels of inequality present in global society mean that such power often really does lie in the hands of a few well-meaning but confused North Americans.

To be involved in international development means, therefore, that one must become embroiled in the difficult ethical questions surrounding development practice.  Through my time in university, I’ve come to the realization that such questions will never be avoidable, and I’m glad that I’ve chosen to engage these issues, rather than ignore them.  Despite my lack of understanding, I still know that I’m pretty fond of the Earth and of most of the people who live here.  And I’d rather do something about the challenges that humanity faces and will continue to face than ignore them and hope that they solve themselves.  And while I don’t believe that my contribution will ever be meaningful enough to really make a significant difference, I might as well do what I can.  Because somebody has to, and it may as well be me.