Category: TaxDollars

Overview of International Aid:Dehumanizing Canadians

I remember my first day at school vividly. It was a rainy day, and my father carried me on his shoulders through the downpour. Beyond that, the details blur, but one memory stands out sharply. As we made our way home, I noticed a boy having the time of his life, playing in the freshly deposited silt along the path that led in and out of the school. He made the sounds of a car and kicked mud backward with his feet, imitating a vehicle stuck in the mud. Later, I learned his name was Anthony, and he would become the first person from our elementary school to attend university.

Sometimes I wonder how I made it home that day. My father had left me at school, and I wouldn’t see him again for what felt like an eternity, though I can’t recall if it was months or years later.

This was 1970, and our school had a free lunch program. The meals were simple: beans and a foreign ingredient called “maakoroni”. We referred to this meal as “thuburo.” While beans were familiar, maakoroni was entirely new to me. The meals were served in aluminum bowls, and they were awful, the worst thing I had ever tasted.

The problem wasn’t just the unfamiliar ingredient. Even if the cook had been taught how to prepare it properly, he lacked the necessary ingredients and methods. The maakoroni was cream-colored and shaped like snail shells. When boiled, it was soft, served cold (there was no other choice), and tasted horrible. Oddly, when raw, it was crunchy and tasted better. Occasionally, the cook’s son would sneak some raw maakoroni from the kitchen and share it with his closest friends, who would pass it down the chain. I was two or three boys away from the son, so I only got a few pieces, and that happened no more than twice.

The beans, though familiar, were dry and required a lot of water and long cooking times to be palatable. But at school, there wasn’t enough water, firewood, or time to cook them thoroughly for hundreds of kids.

The thuburo program lasted for two semesters, about two-thirds of the school year. Toward the end of the second semester, it was announced that starting from the third term, thuburo would be available for a fee. When the third semester came, some kids had paid and continued with the program. My mother couldn’t afford the fee, so I didn’t participate. The program lasted for only one paid semester before dying off due to lack of subscriptions.

Fifty years later, the thuburo program resurfaced in my mind while working in the realm of the “Lords of Poverty.” I came to understand firsthand how such aid programs worked. I realized that maakoroni was our localized name for macaroni, indicating that the aid was from Italy. The fee that cropped up after only two semesters was a factor included in every aid program under the guise of sustainability. For the thuburo program to continue, our parents would have had to import Italian food indefinitely. I have yet to discover the actual name for thuburo, but the lessons it taught me about aid programs and their implementation have stayed with me.

Reflecting on those days, I see how such programs, while well-intentioned, can sometimes miss the mark. They can introduce foreign elements that are hard to integrate into local cultures and fail to consider the long-term sustainability for the communities they aim to help. The thuburo program was a small slice of a much larger picture, a picture that I would come to understand only years later in my professional life. Read: My Descent into Darkness.

Overview of International Aid: Dehumanizing Canadians

International aid, designed to alleviate suffering and foster development in impoverished regions, has been a cornerstone of global humanitarian efforts for decades. However, a critical examination of these initiatives reveals a darker side: the potential dehumanization of both the recipients and the donors, particularly Canadians. Graham Hancock’s seminal work, *Lords of Poverty*, sheds light on the intricate and often troubling dynamics of international aid, raising questions about its efficacy and ethical implications.

The Dual Faces of Dehumanization

Dehumanization is a complex phenomenon that can manifest in subtle and overt ways. It involves stripping individuals or groups of their dignity, reducing them to mere statistics or objects of pity. This dehumanization affects not only those who receive aid but also those who give it, creating a pervasive cycle that undermines the fundamental principles of humanity and compassion.

Dehumanizing the Recipients

In the context of international aid, recipients often find themselves portrayed as helpless and incapable, their identities reduced to images of suffering and destitution. This narrative, perpetuated by fundraising campaigns and media representations, can erode the dignity and self-worth of those in need. The constant depiction of recipients as mere victims fails to recognize their agency, resilience, and potential, perpetuating a one-dimensional view that hinders genuine development and empowerment.

Hancock’s *Lords of Poverty* explores how aid agencies, in their quest for funding, often resort to sensationalizing poverty and suffering. This approach not only distorts reality but also perpetuates a cycle of dependency, where aid becomes a temporary band-aid rather than a catalyst for sustainable change. The dehumanization of recipients, thus, becomes a byproduct of a system more focused on fundraising and self-preservation than on fostering long-term development.

Dehumanizing the Donors

The impact of dehumanization extends to donors as well, particularly those in countries like Canada, where humanitarianism is deeply ingrained in the national consciousness. Canadian donors, motivated by compassion and a desire to help, often find their contributions reduced to mere transactions. This transactional nature of aid can create a disconnect, where donors are seen not as partners in development but as distant benefactors. The emotional and moral engagement that should accompany giving is diminished, reducing the act of giving to a duty rather than a genuine expression of solidarity.

Moreover, the portrayal of aid recipients as faceless masses in need of rescue can foster a sense of superiority among donors. This dynamic can lead to a paternalistic view of aid, where the complexity and capability of those receiving help are overshadowed by the benevolent image of the donor. Such perceptions can erode the mutual respect and equality that should underpin international aid efforts, leading to a form of dehumanization that affects both parties.

The Canadian Context

For Canadians, who often see themselves as global citizens committed to humanitarian values, the implications of dehumanization in international aid are profound. The use of tax dollars to fund aid programs that inadvertently dehumanize both recipients and donors raises ethical and practical concerns. It challenges Canadians to rethink how aid is structured and delivered, urging a move towards approaches that uphold the dignity and agency of all involved.

Rethinking International Aid

Addressing the dehumanization inherent in international aid requires a paradigm shift. It calls for a more holistic and respectful approach to development, one that prioritizes the empowerment and participation of recipients. Aid organizations must move away from sensationalism and towards narratives that highlight resilience, innovation, and partnership.

For donors, including Canadians, this shift means engaging more deeply with the causes they support, fostering a sense of global solidarity rather than distant charity. It involves recognizing the complex realities of those they aim to help and supporting initiatives that promote sustainable and inclusive development.

Conclusion

International aid, while well-intentioned, is fraught with challenges that can lead to the dehumanization of both recipients and donors. Graham Hancock’s *Lords of Poverty* provides a critical lens through which to examine these dynamics, urging a re-evaluation of how aid is conceptualized and implemented. For Canadians, this re-evaluation is not just a moral imperative but a call to action to ensure that their contributions truly uplift and empower, rather than diminish, the humanity of all involved. By embracing a more respectful and participatory approach to international aid, we can move closer to a world where dignity, equality, and mutual respect are at the forefront of humanitarian efforts.

The Dehumanizing Impact of Tax Dollars on Canadians.

I shared a story my mom talked about how the rat eats you in small bites. My childhood was not anything that many Canadians would identify with, except perhaps as an object of pity.

When I was young, my mom set a clear path for me to follow, and I diligently met every target along the way. This determination continued throughout my working life, even after I arrived in Canada as a skilled immigrant. I came with confidence, ready to find work in my field and make a positive contribution to my new home and family. I had always achieved what I set out to do.

 The change crept on me slowly. I remember clearly when I learned that I was poor. The speaker was good at what they did. He gave an analogy, saying “If all you have known in life is hunger, then you would know that you are hungry. Poor people don’t know that they are poor,” he concluded. That moment was my Saul-like revelation. From then on, slowly, subtly but surely my life turned for the worse. I endured the most deep and targeted abuse at that place beyond anything I ever imagined. By the time I quit, I was emotionally and psychologically broken. It took me more than five years, even with professional help, to begin to muster the courage to step into the world again with confidence. I am still working on it.

I share this personal experience to highlight how the use of tax dollars can sometimes inadvertently dehumanize Canadians.

Dehumanizing Canadians: Impact on Society

Dehumanization is a multifaceted and widespread occurrence that carries significant consequences for individuals, groups, and entire societies on a global scale. Within the realm of international aid, it takes on diverse manifestations, influencing both those who provide assistance, such as donors, and those who are meant to receive it, namely aid recipients. In this examination, I intend to delve into the societal repercussions of dehumanization, with specific attention to its effects on Canadian donors and individuals in Canada who bear resemblances to aid beneficiaries.

Health

Health disparities are a glaring consequence of dehumanization. In “Just Medicine: A Cure for Racial Inequality in American Healthcare,” Dayna Bowen Matthew highlights how systemic biases in healthcare lead to poorer outcomes for marginalized groups. Similarly, in Canada, donors and those depicted in aid campaigns often receive inadequate healthcare due to stereotypes that they are either too privileged to need help or too dependent on charity. These perceptions can result in a lack of empathy from healthcare providers, leading to disparities in treatment and outcomes. This echoes Khiara M. Bridges’ arguments in “Critical Race Theory: A Primer,” where systemic inequities in healthcare are perpetuated by dehumanizing ideologies.

The psychological toll of being dehumanized in healthcare settings cannot be understated. Professor Daniel Kahneman’s “Thinking, Fast and Slow” explains how cognitive biases, such as stereotyping, influence our judgments and actions unconsciously. When healthcare providers hold biased views about these patients, it can hinder their willingness to provide thorough and compassionate care, exacerbating health disparities.

Education

Educational opportunities are also affected by dehumanization. Children from families involved in aid work or those represented in fundraising imagery may be stigmatized in educational settings. This can lead to lower expectations from educators and peers, impacting their academic performance and self-esteem. These children might internalize negative stereotypes, leading to a self-fulfilling prophecy of underachievement. Daniel Kahneman’s insights into cognitive biases highlight how these prejudices can affect educators’ perceptions and actions, further disadvantaging these students.

Moreover, the psychological perspectives on poverty, as discussed by Ben Fell and Miles Hewstone, indicate that poverty can lead to social exclusion and diminished self-worth. This psychological burden is particularly heavy on children, who may struggle to see the value in education if they feel perpetually marginalized. Tracy Shildrick and Jessica Rucell’s sociological perspectives on poverty also emphasize how societal structures and perceptions can perpetuate educational inequalities, reinforcing a cycle of poverty.

Employment

In the employment sector, dehumanization manifests through hiring biases and workplace discrimination. Individuals who are perceived as mere symbols of charity may be seen as lacking self-sufficiency or capability. Graham Hancock’s “Lords of Poverty” discusses how aid can create perceptions of dependency and inferiority. This stigma can follow individuals into the job market, where they may face skepticism about their abilities and motivations. Such biases can result in fewer job opportunities, lower wages, and limited career advancement, perpetuating cycles of poverty and marginalization.

Philip Davis and Miguel Sanchez-Martinez’s economic theories of poverty highlight how economic structures and labor market dynamics can perpetuate inequality. When dehumanized individuals are systematically marginalized in the job market, it not only affects their personal economic stability but also contributes to broader economic inefficiencies and social stratification. The psychological impact of this dehumanization, as discussed by Ben Fell and Miles Hewstone, can lead to decreased motivation and job performance, further entrenching these individuals in poverty.

Housing

Housing is another area where dehumanization has severe impacts. Those who are stereotyped as dependent on aid may struggle to find adequate housing due to prejudices held by landlords and housing authorities. This is exacerbated by the psychological effects of poverty, as discussed by Ben Fell and Miles Hewstone. They note that poverty can lead to social exclusion and internalized stigma, making it even harder for individuals to advocate for their housing needs. Dehumanized individuals may face discrimination in the housing market, leading to substandard living conditions and housing instability.

The sociological perspectives on poverty provided by Tracy Shildrick and Jessica Rucell further explain how systemic barriers and social prejudices contribute to housing insecurity. When people are dehumanized and reduced to symbols of charity or dependency, they are less likely to be viewed as deserving of safe and stable housing. This not only affects their quality of life but also perpetuates a cycle of poverty and marginalization.

Conclusion

The dehumanization of Canadians, particularly those who donate to aid agencies and those depicted in fundraising media, has far-reaching implications across health, education, employment, and housing. By reducing these individuals to mere symbols of charity, society perpetuates stereotypes and biases that hinder their full participation and contribution. As Khiara M. Bridges and Dayna Bowen Matthew highlight, addressing these systemic issues requires a fundamental shift in how we perceive and treat marginalized groups. Understanding the cognitive biases explained by Daniel Kahneman, and recognizing the psychological impacts of poverty discussed by Ben Fell and Miles Hewstone, can help foster more inclusive and equitable policies. It is crucial to move beyond dehumanizing narratives and work towards a society that values and supports all its members.

Twenty-one years ago, my family embarked on a journey across three continents, leaving behind everything we owned to start a new life in Canada as skilled immigrants. Little did we know that the path ahead would be long and arduous, marked by unexpected challenges and unfamiliar experiences.

Upon landing in Canada, we were thrust into a new reality, where even the simplest tasks felt daunting. Basic necessities like kitchen salt seemed elusive, and the familiar comforts of our past life were replaced by uncertainty and confusion. Amidst this upheaval, one aspect of Canadian life stood out to me: the perspective on poverty and donors.

The Perception Gap

Growing up in Kenya, I was accustomed to a different narrative surrounding poverty and generosity. In my community, the notion that a donor from Western countries would arrive and give substantial amounts of money had taken hold. However, my perception shifted upon witnessing the Canadian perspective firsthand.

Donors in Canada were not wealthy magnates or celebrities; they were ordinary individuals—low-paid workers, farmers, and even those on welfare. These generous donors were willing to share what little they had with those less fortunate in Africa. Their empathy transcended borders and economic disparities.

The Deceptive Dollar

During my tenure with an organization that solicits donations from generous Canadians, I gained valuable insights into the dynamics of international aid. But before delving into these donor insights, let me share a childhood story—a tale of the rat that eats you in small bites.

During my childhood, my brother and I shared a bed, where bed wetting and dust accumulation were common occurrences. Despite my mother’s desperate attempts to instill cleanliness, our bed became a muddy pool of dust and urine, attracting maggots during the cold, rainy months. In a desperate bid to enforce hygiene, my mother resorted to a chilling tale: if we failed to wash our feet before bed, a rat would painlessly nibble at us while we slept, leaving no trace until morning when we would wake up with a gaping hole.

This story of the rat and my childhood perfectly parallels the tactics employed by what I refer to as “misery merchants”—organizations that capitalize on false narratives to solicit donations from Western taxpayers. These merchants peddle the notion that a mere $1 a day can lift an African out of poverty, leveraging shocking images and manipulated stories to tug at heartstrings and open wallets.

However, the $1 figure is a fabrication designed to deceive well-meaning donors. Having lived both in Kenya and Canada, I know firsthand that the aspirations and needs of individuals in both countries are strikingly similar. Moreover, the cost of living in cities like Nairobi and Mississauga is comparable, debunking the notion that $1 holds more value in Africa. $1 is the rat bite, small enough that donors do not feel the pinch.

The Fish and the Bait

To maintain the flow of donations, misery merchants scour the African continent for sensationalized images of poverty, presenting everyday activities as dire circumstances that can be alleviated with a small donation. These visuals prey on the goodwill of donors, perpetuating harmful stereotypes and reinforcing a narrative of helplessness and dependency.

Why Africa? Because the $1 is merely a bait. The real fish they are after are tax dollars, and if Africans are the intended beneficiaries, the fish can be up to ten times bigger.

Dehumanization Effects

This deceptive narrative has far-reaching consequences:

Donors

The media used in fundraising has the potential to instill cognitive biases in donors:

• Anchoring: The initial $1 figure becomes the reference point, skewing perceptions.
• Availability Heuristic: Shocking images create an emotional bias, leading to impulsive giving.
• Confirmation Bias: Donors seek information that confirms their existing beliefs.
• Halo Effect: Generosity attributed to donors overshadows other aspects of their lives.

Black People: The consequence is that black individuals are inherently perceived as deserving of less.

• Education: Black children in school often lack the guidance they deserve. They are unfairly seen as products of their parents and environment, incapable of rearing well-adjusted children.
• Healthcare: Disparities persist, affecting access and outcomes.
• Employment and Job Progress: Stereotypes hinder career growth.

Conclusion

In conclusion, it’s crucial to confront false narratives and scrutinize aid initiatives with discerning eyes. While the rat may nibble, we must not be deceived by its seemingly insignificant bites.