Sitting Down So Others Can Stand

Those of you familiar with my writing will know I love the chance to hat-tip an anniversary.

As well as today being the first day of the last month of the year, it is also 70 years to the day since Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on a bus in Montgomery, Alabama – and was arrested for it.

Back in 2018, I spent time in the United States for work, travelling through the South, visiting museums, memorials, and sites of the Civil Rights Movement. It was one of the most affecting trips of my life.

I wrote about it at the time, and re-reading that text over the weekend reminded me how fortunate I was, back then, to have a job that enabled me to make that trip in the first place.

It dawned on me too that, since leaving CARE International in late 2019, some of my focus has – perhaps inadvertently – shifted.

While with CARE, I was afforded daily access to issues of social rights, well-being, injustice, gender inequity – a myriad of interwoven concerns that constantly reminded me of my own privileges.

Since becoming a freelancer, it feels like I’ve turned much more inward: to the work at hand, to the immediate need to secure the next contract, the next rent payment. And this has often been at the expense of expanding my understanding of those deeper issues I knew so well, only a few years ago.

On that 2018 excursion I met some incredible people – one of whose work was introduced to us when we visited the Equal Justice Initiative in Montgomery, which he founded. His name is Bryan Stevenson, and he’s an American lawyer and social-justice activist, who has spent decades challenging racial bias in the criminal-justice system.

In his book Just Mercy, Stevenson writes about the many hundreds of young Black men he has defended. I remember his staff showing us around the Institute, and wearing T-shirts with a quote from Stevenson emblazoned on the back:

The opposite of poverty isn’t wealth. The opposite of poverty is justice.

When Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat that day in 1955, she lit a fuse for a year long boycott that ultimately overturned segregation on public transport in Montgomery.

Her defiance is remembered as iconic. Hers, like Luther King’s, was a moment that changed history.

Rosa Parks’s story and legacy suggests to me that bringing about change is rarely born from comfort. It comes instead from friction, from disruption, from relentless organizing. Sometimes, as in her case, from all of the above combined.

Revisiting this, I’ve read more about how, at the time, many mainstream newspapers and officials framed Rosa Parks as tired, weak, and elderly: a harmless “grandmother figure” whose feet simply hurt.

That narrative was constructed deliberately to make her protest easier for the wider public to digest. In doing so, the narrative then became easier to sanitize, and easier to depoliticize.

But the truth is more powerful. Rosa Parks was 42 years old – not frail or dithering. And, as she later said:

The only tired I was, was tired of giving in.

Long before that bus ride she was already a seasoned activist. She was trained in non-violent resistance, she was connected to organizers, and she was committed to racial justice.

By 1955 she had been deeply involved in civil-rights work and had supported earlier landmark cases of injustice – including the defense of the Scottsboro Boys, a group of nine Black teenagers wrongfully accused of rape in 1931.

Their rushed trials at the time – complete with all-white juries – and their near-execution, exposed the brutal racial injustice of the legal system, and very likely shaped Parks’s understanding of what it meant to fight for justice.

Her refusal on that bus was not a spontaneous act born of fatigue. It was a strategic, courageous choice by someone who understood exactly what was at stake – as well as how much work still remained.

I don’t know how much Rosa Parks, or any of her peers at the time, believed there was an alternative route to justice than the one they took. What seems more truthful is that their actions were born out of necessity and fierce conviction. They acted not because it was safe, or convenient, but because it was right.

Today, at the beginning of the end of another year, I’m struck by how easy it is, in our everyday lives, to drift toward comfort. We focus on earning, and planning, and surviving – this is what we do, these are the things we use for structure, and for our milestones.

And, while I don’t see how to get around some of these inevitably important components in one’s life, I do wish personally I’d spent more time of late listening and learning from those others out there, who have leant hard into the practice of intentional solidarity.

I’ve found myself proactively turning away from reading more about some of the ongoing turbulence in the world. And in doing so, missed opportunities to be inspired by all the many other “Rosa Parks figures” in the world: individuals, often far away from our lives, bravely doing things differently, guided by resolve, endurance, and principle.

One of them is Malala Yousafzai. Even now – years after surviving a brutal attempt on her life, and years after winning the Nobel Peace Prize – she continues to remind the world why education is not a privilege, but a right. When I first learnt about her story she immediately inspired me to write about some of the issues she stood up for.

Looking her up now, it’s thrilling to read that through her ‘Malala Fund’ she continues to supports girls, particularly those in conflict zones or under oppressive regimes. She is helping them complete their secondary schooling, stand up for their rights, and ultimately claim the futures that too often are denied to them.

Although she has repeatedly spoken out about the dire situation facing Afghan girls, this year she went to Tanzania to convene activists around a range of similar issues – from girls’ education and child marriage to digital inclusion and climate justice.

To me, Malala is another history changing icon. In some ways, she stands as a bridge between the legacy of 1950s civil-rights movements and the contemporary realities that my work with CARE also brought to life for me: global inequality, gender injustice, and the woeful disenfranchisement of entire generations of girls.

I’m very grateful for the chance to regurgitate some of the lessons I took from that US trip seven years ago, and to commit more in my life to reach beyond convenience, to pause, to read, and to listen much more to voices I don’t normally hear.

Just because we’ve got used to the media peppering us with images and stories of characters who couldn’t behave LESS like those I’ve written about here today, it doesn’t mean we have to take any lead from them, or from what they represent. If, instead, we have to go back in time to find better role models and more worthy solutions to social inequalities, then so be it.

Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr., Malala Yousafzai: these should be the trend-setters of today, the influencers in our lives.

I will always applaud them, and all the many others out there like them – people who refuse to accept easy comfort, when it comes at the cost of justice.

You must never be fearful about what you are doing when it is right.

Rosa Parks (Feb 4, 1913 – Oct 24, 2005).

Smarter Machines, Slower Minds?

I woke up this morning to news of Nvidia’s latest impressive stock surge – yet again confounding its critics and the doom-mongers convinced the AI bubble is moments from bursting.

It doesn’t surprise me. AI’s galloping pace is unmistakable, and its technologies are now running wild through the day-to-day interactions and transactions of businesses and organisations. Supply chains, customer service, drug discovery, industrial design, logistics – AI is under the bonnet of so many things we rely on.

Perhaps more striking is the shift and uptake of AI not by organisations, but by individuals. An ever-growing majority of the world’s population now uses AI in some form. To keep things in perspective, here’s the rough scale (pulled up using ChatGPT, naturally): there are 5.5-6 billion people online; roughly the same number using smartphones; and close to a billion already interacting with AI tools – often without even knowing it.

Whatever definitions countries choose when reporting AI usage, it’s getting harder to maintain the fantasy that AI is niche or peripheral. It’s mainstream.

And, although we talk about AI as if it has “just arrived,” it’s been with us for far longer.

The field traces back to the 1940s, when Alan Turing first imagined machines that could think. I re-watched The Imitation Game (the movie about him) on a flight this summer, and was far more absorbed in the storyline than I remembered being when I first watched it ten years ago. Back then, AI felt like a curiosity, whereas now it feels like the backdrop of our lives.

From Turing’s wartime code-breaking machines, the formal study of AI began in 1956, then wandered along for decades before suddenly accelerating in the 2010s with deep learning and the rise of powerful computing. What looks like a “sudden revolution” today is really just the latest chapter in an 80-year experiment.

ChatGPT arrived only three years ago. Its exponential uptake (1 million users in five days, 100 million in two months) made it one of the fastest-adopted technologies in human history. Generative AI went mainstream so quickly that many formed opinions on it only after it was already shaping our routines.

I use AI a lot in my work, and try to treat it as something that expands my thinking rather than replaces it. It’s easy, though, to feel the seduction of outsourcing increasing amounts of the boring brain stuff we deal with to a machine.

When I heard friends first using it to write emails and text messages, I remember thinking: this surely won’t last. And yet here we are. AI now writes, translates, analyses, drafts, refines, designs, and increasingly does it frighteningly well.

If everything we have to do becomes effortless, what happens to the mental muscle we use when things are hard? What happens to reasoning and curiosity? What about our memories and about our accountability?

Earlier this month, the New York Times posted an article called How A.I. and Social Media Contribute to ‘Brain Rot’. The Harvard Gazette ran a similar piece last week, and The Guardian and MSN picked up coverage of Nataliya Kosmyna, an MIT Media Lab scientist whose recent study of Chat GPT made waves.

All raise similar worries – some calling it “brain rot,” others “cognitive atrophy.” Kosmyna and her fellow researchers found that users who leaned on AI for writing tasks remembered less of what they had written, and showed diminished activity in brain networks tied to attention and reasoning. One educator interviewed described AI as “a brilliant assistant, but a terrible replacement for struggle.”

This feels about right.

And yet, the same research argues that, used reflectively, AI can make us more creative, more productive, and even more curious. The key distinction is, perhaps, intention: it’s not the presence of AI that dulls us, it’s the absence of our own engagement.

I’d noticed my own habits shifting in that direction, and so took a step back. In doing so I felt myself pushed in the opposite direction: towards more reading, more handwriting, and more analogue time.

I wrote about this over on Substack earlier this year, Rewinding With a Bic Pen, because I felt that slowing down into the older rhythms of writing was helping me stretch my attention, rather than scatter it.

However, at the same time, I’d say that AI has made me much more efficient in my work – researching, planning, synthesising ideas, prepping workshops, threading insights into reports. Using AI has meant I can carve out more time, not less, for other things that matter. It’s a perfect conundrum if you ask me: not classically good or bad.

My daughter’s school is, understandably, trying to protect students from AI – or at least slow it down – and I don’t feel nervous about their classroom experiences being compromised. But the truth is unavoidable: their world will be steeped in AI whether we delay it or not. The question isn’t how long we can hold it back – it’s how well we can teach them to use it with care and curiosity.

I definitely crave simpler times, simpler tools, simpler choices. I find myself saying this more and more. Although nothing in the rulebook says we can’t keep hold of the simple things while still letting technology widen the possibilities around us. The analogue and the digital can coexist.

In the end, I’m personally on board with AI. I see its risks, and I also see the enormous potential for good (plus the way it has already nudged me back into more deliberate, thoughtful habits.)

It’s hard to sum things up. Particularly when I’m nowhere near understanding or predicting AI’s evolution, nor the financial ripples a company like Nvidia is casting across global markets. The numbers are too big for me to take seriously. When I see speculation about Elon Musk edging closer to “trillionaire” status, or Jensen Huang’s net worth doing somersaults, I tend to scroll past it and simply go off to make myself a strong cup of tea.

In the end, AI is a mirror that reflects our cravings as much as our creativity. It shows our hunger for ease, our impatience, and our distractibility – in those moments, we look like one vast Pavlov’s-dog experiment, staring up, waiting for the next treat. But it also reflects our imagination and our ability to build astonishing things.

It holds both truths at once.

And so, arguably, the real question isn’t whether AI will be good or bad, but who we choose to become while using it.

Your Application Has Been Unsuccessful

I’ve been remiss posting on DefinitelyMaybe, having thrown my efforts into a weekly Substack instead – a decision that has yet to yield fame, fortune, or even a single sponsorship from a running shoe company.

In the meantime, no one’s mentioned my absence here, which I choose to interpret as proof that after twelve years of waffle I’ve covered everything there is to cover in the world of development.

Sadly for you, reader, I have not even scraped the surface of our sector’s bleak, lunar landscape.

It’s been an odd year, working freelance in development and humanitarian affairs. One of my last rants here was about Elon Musk’s DODGE experiment, following Trump’s cheerful levelling of USAID’s $40 billion portfolio. I can’t bring myself to post a photo of either man this morning – Musk currently awaiting a trillion-dollar stock decision, Trump berating New York’s newly elected Mayor, Zohran Mamdani.

Today, I want to talk about the future of job applications.

The email above is verbatim from an INGO that rejected me for a “Head of” position. I get emails like these a lot and am comfortable sharing that. It was a rather whimsical application to be fair, given the last six years I’ve been in the market for short term consultancies rather than full-time roles.

However, even with my freelancing I’ve probably only struck gold three times, after spending hours crafting pitches to advertised assignments. Ironically, the most lucrative of those was also the most haphazard application I submitted – a lesson in randomness, if ever there was one.

Most of my consultancy work comes through word of mouth. For that, I’m sincerely grateful. I intend to keep going, not least because my track record with formal applications suggests remaining solo may be wise.

It makes me wonder: is there really no better way for organisations to find people than the tired ritual of CVs and cover letters?

I write this, of course, while still mildly irked by that latest “thanks, but no thanks” email above – copied and pasted as it so often is in the first person, yet unsigned at the end, it felt like a passive-aggressive ghost of correspondence, glaring at me in my in-box.

As this isn’t the first, nor the last, rejection I’ll receive, I did want to share some of the inadequacies I see in the overall recruiting paradigm we have to wade through in the development sector.

Standing Out in the Crowd

Firstly, and as usual, I have no idea what part of my application failed the test, based on the email sent. Was it tone? Experience? Am I too old? Too informal? Should I have omitted my perfectly reasonable demand for sixty days of annual leave and a 25% pay rise each year?

Certainly one can ask for feedback, but some rejection emails even come with disclosures like this other one I received:

“Due to the number of applications received and reviewed, I am not able to give individual feedback at this time, though I do encourage you to consider and apply for one of our consultancy opportunities in future.”

Recruiters tell me the challenge now is volume. Every LinkedIn posting draws hundreds of applicants within hours. Many are AI-generated, indistinguishable from spam. In that flood, it’s little wonder HR teams can’t respond personally. The process has become automated compassion. Efficient, yet entirely devoid of empathy.

And sometimes the role was never really open at all. The ad is window-dressing for an internal appointment already made before your polite rejection hits your inbox. Everyone knows this game.

The Human Touch

When I was recruiting for CARE in London twenty years ago, the process felt clunky, but sincere. Applications came by post, HR filtered the pile, and you spent a weekend reading twenty or thirty of them, scoring each against the criteria. You’d imagine who these people might be, wonder how they’d fit, and inevitably be surprised when you met them.

“He’s nothing like I thought he would be,” we’d gush after the first interview, perhaps a tad disappointed. Then the second candidate would arrive, and we’d instantly revise our judgment of the first.

I want to be careful here, harking back to these times and to any over-reliance on the in-person interview. There’s a strong argument that you’d be just as well to flip a coin, rather than judge two candidates battling it out in 45-minute interviews. I’ve seen plenty of people ace their interview but then turn out to be terrible at their jobs – and vice versa.

That said, while my old team’s deliberations about candidates could be chaotic and subjective, at the same time they were undeniably human deliberations. We’d agree, disagree, wind each other up, have a laugh about it all, and then take a punt on someone. It was a messy chemistry of people trying to imagine other people in their world.

While an interview is only one piece of the puzzle, I hope these deliberations still play out in some teams because it feels instead now that many just outsource that time and imagination to algorithms. Which results in extra pressure on candidates to hit the right keywords, and on recruiters to do the same with the right filters. I think the combination of which can mean people, at times, feel unseen.

Technology was meant to create fairer hiring practices, however I’d argue some of the stuff that used to make it feel more real – the chance for surprise, or for discovery, or for seeing someone as more than a list of verbs and achievements – has been lost as a result.

In Trust We Trust

Truly one of the best litmus tests for success here is trust. Someone who’s seen you work, who believes in you, or introduces you to someone else – that format can work really well, and is devoid of an algorithm and a cover letter. This way of doing things is also, clearly, not comprehensive enough of a format on its own to work for everyone.

There likely isn’t one silver bullet that comes close to solving the dilemma of how to best fill all the roles out there, and all the needs. We will have to use the internet to advertise. I just think our systems for doing so have taken out some of the vital aspects of what used to be there. CVs written by ChatGPT, and rejections by chatbots – where do we go from here?

Perhaps the future of hiring is more about a ten-minute audio pitch instead of a cover letter? Have any organisations out there experimented with short paid trials? Or could claim they host interviews where candidates ask as many questions as they do as recruiters? I’d love to hear from anyone on this.

For me, anything that reintroduces more elements of curiosity, risk and humanity into the exchange would be refreshing.

Viability vs. Visibility: The Tragedy of Modern Leadership

https://www.newsweek.com/white-house-elon-musk-doge-sec-target-conflict-2032567

Just been reading that Elon Musk is stepping down from his role at DOGE, the government department set up to save the US economy from wasted spending.

I’ve briefly shared my view on DOGE and on Trump, and I mentally flit between one day wanting to write more about how both entities are impacting the world (negatively, in my opinion) and the next day simply wanting the whole circus that is the US Republican administration to fall off the face of the earth.

If only there were some decent Democrat spokes-people out there, these past five months, to counteract the daily ordeal each of us faces when we read the news. Lucky enough I found this guy, Harry, to be a helpful and passionate critique of Musk and Trump.

There’s very little in this piece he posted recently with which I disagree.

The one thing I’d add to this latest piece “news” about Musk leaving DOGE is that, aside from the long list of grievances one would be well justified to level at Elon Musk (Harry covers this neatly, so I don’t need to), and aside from his general awkwardness with everyone he meets, and how he communicates, the thing that sticks most in my throat is his inability to collaborate.

His purchase of Twitter/X has only made his individualism and ego even more pronounced.

Forget the viability of something anymore (be it, say, the “truth” or simply the credentials of one’s EV business) many social media sites have together reframed what is important for society and that, it seems to me, is not viability, but visibility.

Misinformation thrives in these online spaces. Very complex ideas and hypotheses are flattened out into bulleted “top tips”. Twitter, in many ways, is a platform which has gamified shortened attention spans and praises individual’s visibility and their brand.

Which, of course, offers the perfect ground for performers like Trump and Musk, who pretend to be leaders, but act more like ham-fisted Copperfield illusionists. All accountability is removed. All sense evaporates as soon as they start speaking. They don’t answer questions, they gaslight, they lie, they rinse, they repeat.

While Musk claims to build for the future, with neural interfaces and colonies on Mars, he is a caricature of all the shitty habits and traits that we’re collectively adopting from spending too much time, ironically, scrolling through Twitter feeds.

It’s well documented that many people find it ever harder to hold their attention on simple tasks and activities. Young professionals, in particular, embrace more performative ambitions about what they want to do as individuals. It feels, a lot of the time, like there is a fading appetite for collective progress, as folks rush about in a melee of self-made busyness and unfinished projects.

As Musk bounces from city to city, flexing his enormous bank account in front of politicians one day and Silicon Valley the next, we watch as climate plans get drafted annually at COP Conferences, before being routinely shelved. We observe social justice campaigns that trend for days, before being eclipsed by celebrity gossip or some other geopolitical outrage.

Musk is a symbol for these contradictions. His own portfolio reflects a restlessness where the next ambition supersedes the existing one. Bored of this project now, move on.

Perhaps all of this is inevitable, given the world’s richest man is able to sway the markets with a single tweet, and can basically say or do what he wants today, and then pay for the damage afterwards, knowing that tomorrow we’ll all have moved on to the next click-bait article.

Nice heels, cowboy.

Musk is not alone, of course. As Jeff Bezos floated into Cannes earlier this month, in his $500m schooner, the irony was not lost on those who’ve followed his outspoken support to address climate change. And let’s not forget his Blue Origin space flight debacle. No, let’s.

Whichever of these wealthy elite you handpick for analysis, you’ll find the same paradoxes. The allure of the solo operator, at this echelon of society, remains powerful, there’s no doubt about that, and especially in a world that feels increasingly ungovernable. But the actions and behaviors of these individuals, forging ahead, indifferent to consensus, and chucking U-turns on a weekly basis, smacks of ending up brazenly erasing the work of thousands of others.

And, this approach fundamentally ignores the necessity of institutions, of partnerships, and the wholesome bindings of community. All of which are needed if we’re to arrive at long term solutions to global problems. We don’t need Musk or Bezos to do that.

You can tell me that Musk is responsible for cutting edge technological breakthroughs but, even if I choose to believe that, the nature in which he is conducting himself does not sit well with me, nor fill me with anything other than fear.

Musk, Bezos, Trump: these characters are in the headlines all the time, and they dominate how we think about change because of that. That’s a red flag.

Change that the world urgently requires is slow and deeply collective. We need sustained cooperation, and instead we run the risk of remaining stuck in a loop of promising beginnings and spectacular distractions.

Too Distracted Scrolling to Notice We’re Sinking

In 2025, the world feels perpetually distracted. Elections, wars, AI, celebrity scandals — global attention ricochets between urgency and noise. Today it’s one crisis, tomorrow another. And we all scroll on.

And yet, a slower, more existential threat escalates beneath it all: climate change.

Especially in Southeast Asia, the impacts are already reshaping daily life. I’m guilty of tuning out, and I know many others do the same head-in-the-sand routine when they skim stories about rising temperatures or shrinking icebergs.

If climate change is so serious then why aren’t we acting like it is?

Southeast Asia is on the frontlines of climate risk. Jakarta is sinking by as much as 17 centimetres a year, one of the fastest rates in the world. In Vietnam, over 50% of the Mekong Delta’s land area is projected to face saltwater intrusion by 2050, threatening not just agriculture, but the food security of tens of millions.

Saline intrusion is already choking rice production in the Delta, while intensifying heatwaves and droughts disrupt water supplies. When these come, droughts disrupt water supplies, and you don’t have to be studying GCSE geography like my daughter (who knows more about this than I) to appreciate what then transpires from a biodiversity perspective: that everything is gradually disappearing.

The IPCC (our collective authority on the matter) warns the window to avoid catastrophic change is ‘brief and rapidly closing.’ That’s not hyperbole — it’s scientific consensus. And, still, climate continues to feel like a background hum, rather than breaking news.

The private sector must play a more central role to Southeast Asia’s adaptation and resilience efforts. Governments alone can’t foot the bill or engineer every innovation. Yet, despite growing interest in green investments and carbon markets, engagement remains patchy.

Vietnam’s 2025 Carbon Market Forum and the P4G Summit were welcome steps. These meetings offered the usual fare: policy frameworks, optimistic keynotes, and lots of “roadmaps.” But translating these into real action remains a challenge.

I’ve worked for a long time promoting sustainability and, in particular, getting business to the table however, let’s be honest, when it comes to climate change, aside from a few regional giants and climate-conscious smaller businesses, most private sector entities are still unsure what climate action means for them, or how to act without sacrificing profitability.

So, I think my call to action on this would, ideally, be quite broad (the ownership of the issue should be everyone’s) however it is here is where I think international NGOs (like my former employer CARE) should step in — not as saviours, but as agencies that can help shape the systems that exist within the private sector, and which relate to climate change.

CARE doesn’t treat women’s empowerment and climate action as separate goals. Instead, they have developed programmes that integrate them through market-based, locally led interventions, tackling environmental threats and economic inequality at once.

In Vietnam, for example, HerGreenVenture supports women-led enterprises with training and green finance to adopt low-emission farming and scale sustainable technologies. In Cambodia, CARE also runs community recycling programmes that help women turn waste into income and reduce landfill pollution. And in Thailand, CARE’s eco-tourism projects led by women are creating jobs while preserving forests and coastlines.

What links these diverse initiatives is a belief that resilience is built from the bottom up.

CARE’s core strategy is clear: gender equality isn’t a side note, it’s central. Women, particularly in rural and informal economies, often bear the worst climate shocks while themselves holding the keys to adaptation. Give them access to green finance, leadership roles, and supply chains, and resilience becomes lasting.

We’ve been warned for years, but action has lagged far behind awareness. Climate experts might point to progress — but, from where I sit, I don’t see enough.

If you’re a business leader, why not starting by asking: how is your company contributing to climate adaptation today? Not just ESG compliance, but to real-world impact.

If you’re in government, how about checking the extent to which you are creating the right conditions for innovation, for inclusion, and ultimately for scale?

And, if you’re an INGO or donor, let’s have more discussion about whether you are building systems or simply just running programmes?

We may live in distracted times. I find myself fighting this day-on-day myself. But, distraction doesn’t make the climate crisis less real — if anything it just makes it less seen.

The question is no longer if it’s serious. It’s whether we’ll start acting like it.

Turn Debt into Hope

https://walletgenius.com/loans/why-debt-relief-plans-might-be-better-than-debt-consolidation/

Do you remember much about what you were doing twenty five years ago? Maybe you can recall how you spent that final New Year’s Eve of the 20th century?

Fun fact, that specific NYE, with only an hour left until midnight, I found myself responsible for introducing an old school friend to the woman who turned out to become the love of his life.

Anyway, while some of us were downing drinks and match-making at a bar in South West London, others were galvanizing global attention about world debt, and its impacts on least developed nations. The Jubilee 2000 movement led that charge at the time, their efforts leading to the cancellation of over $130 billion in debt for 36 countries.

A monumental effort which enabled nations to redirect funds toward critical sectors like health and education, offering millions a pathway out of poverty. But, fast forward to 2025, and the call for debt justice still resonates, only things have got worse.

I’ve been working recently with Caritas International, and have come to know about the launch of their “Turn Debt into Hope” campaign, urging the cancellation of unjust and unsustainable debts that, to quote from their website, “hinder nations from investing in their futures.”

From some quick research it seems that, back in 2000, the total external debt for the world’s Least Developed Countries (LDCs) was approximately $150.4 billion. External debt today, for the 31 poorest, high-risk countries, has now topped $200 billion. We’re seeing the highest burden of debt in 30 years.

​This increase means that even more substantial chunks of money from the world’s poorest governments are being diverted away from public sector needs and, instead, allocated to repaying these debts.

When you then consider other ‘crises’ that encroach upon a country’s economy – be it the slow onset ramifications of conflict, or the rapid emergency of an earthquake (much like the one Myanmar experienced a week ago) – it becomes impossible to see how these debts will ever be repaid.

In the aftermath of a crisis, economies dive, job losses occur, inflation prices scupper spending, and a whole myriad of other economic outcomes conspire to spiral a country out of all control.

Waking up this morning to the news of Donald Trump’s sweeping tariffs (which includes a 10% baseline on all imports, and higher rates on key trading partners such as China (34%), the EU (20%) and a whopping 46% here in Vietnam) it is obvious these escalating trade tensions will only lead to market volatility, to fears of a global economic slowdown, and the inevitably unequal impacts of that on so many of the world’s developing countries.

It’s a brutal, cruel economic conundrum, because it is the most vulnerable communities who face the highest threats.

As I’ve been prone to highlight here many times before now, I believe the role of the private sector to be key in these debates. And yet, too often, these conversations happen without the private sector in the room.

That needs to change. Companies are increasingly recognizing that their long-term success is intertwined with the well-being of the communities in which they operate. Engaging with initiatives that promote economic justice, such as “Turn Debt into Hope”, aligns with corporate commitments to Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI).

By advocating for, and participating in, debt cancellation measures, businesses can play a role in contributing to the creation of more stable and equitable global markets. All of which, ultimately, benefits everyone.

Twenty five years ago, the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) set out a charter, with a fifteen year timeframe. The MDGs sewed into their narrative this inference about partnership and the role of the private sector, however it’s been a slow process to bring business to the table.

Genuine collaboration takes time, and today we need to keep banging this same drum, hoist up this same flag, and loudly promote why multi-stakeholder collaboration, that includes business, can be instrumental in addressing both immediate financial injustices, while also laying the groundwork for sustainable development.​

The principles that the 2000 Jubilee Campaign champion are more pertinent than ever. We’re experiencing an era marked by economic uncertainty, by geopolitical tensions, and by ongoing climate crises. Debt cancellation is a crucial lever for promoting stability and prosperity, and we cannot wait another quarter of a decade for action in this space.

The children of my old school friend, who met his future wife on New Year’s Eve in 2000, are already in their twenties. Theirs is the generation now grappling with the implications of a world that procrastinated over its responsibilities.

Do please consider donating to any of the organisations currently providing humanitarian assistance to communities in Myanmar affected by the earthquake – here is one.

Why Companies Must Double Down on DEI

Image credit Marketwatch.com

I have been working with companies for twenty years in a bid to involve them more in the delivery and improved impacts of international aid.

What started primarily as a resource mobilization effort, for CARE International UK in 2006, soon evolved into something more integrated – global banks providing accounts for village savings groups; insurers offering rural communities $1 policies for health coverage; and even beer companies investing in research to understand the link between alcohol and domestic violence.

Throughout this time, I saw how the emergence of diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) policies into the corporate world helped usher in new modes of leadership. CEOs began talking about putting “people and planet before profit.” HR departments prided themselves on equal opportunities, and invested in understanding workers’ rights and needs.

This shift toward a more inclusive, values-driven model of ‘Business 2.0’ was slow to take hold, but many of the world’s largest companies led the way. At least, they talked a good game. And, sometimes, talking is where progress begins.

DEI Under Threat

Today, however, we are navigating a world increasingly shaped by geopolitical instability, shifting aid flows, and rising nationalist rhetoric. DEI is under threat – not just from external political pressures, but from internal forces like budget cuts and boardroom fatigue. Yet, walking away from DEI now is not only a moral misstep, in my opinion it’s bad for business and bad for society.

The first quarter of 2025 has already seen drastic cuts to development aid. Alongside this, DEI commitments – once publicly celebrated – are being quietly shelved. Still, inequality persists. Marginalized groups, particularly women, ethnic minorities, LGBTQ+ individuals, and people with disabilities, continue to face systemic barriers. The need for equity in the workplace and beyond remains urgent.

Companies have long positioned themselves as leaders in social responsibility. I know this because I’ve spent countless hours in corporate boardrooms discussing the merits of my host’s latest DEI framework. I’ve attended conferences, facilitated panels, sat in workshops, written blogs, and led site visits from the northern provinces of Myanmar to the remote islands of the Philippines.

I’ve seen the important impacts of DEI on company culture, factory floors, and the communities indirectly touched by global supply chains.

The type of leadership that I’ve witnessed in this time, and that prioritizes values-driven business (one that sees the “win-win” for company and society in driving a stronger DEI agenda) is not a “nice-to-have.”

It is, more than ever, core to innovation, resilience, and long-term growth. Numerous studies have shown that diverse teams outperform homogenous ones. Inclusion drives creativity, better decision-making, and market expansion.

According to McKinsey: “Companies in the top quartile for ethnic and cultural diversity outperform those in the bottom quartile by 36% in profitability.” Organisations prioritizing DEI enjoy “up to 50% lower staff turnover”, says the Living Institute, which in turn reduces the high cost of recruitment and onboarding.

During my time with CARE International, I worked closely with companies who shared similar data and positive anecdotes about the way DEI commitments they had made were taking hold. Also while at CARE, I learnt more about micro and small businesses. Globally, these account for 90% of all enterprises and over 50% of global employment, according to the World Bank and the United Nations.

Imagine a world where these businesses adopt inclusive practices – the ripple effects through supply chains and local economies could be truly transformative.

Where to Start?

If you are a business seeking to strengthen your DEI commitments, why not start with the basics:

  • Embed DEI in your core strategy – don’t relegate it to CSR.
  • Publish annual DEI metrics and be transparent about both progress and challenges.
  • Ensure inclusive hiring, equitable pay, and diverse leadership pipelines.
  • Advocate publicly for inclusive policies, even when it’s uncomfortable.

In times of political pushback, I don’t believe ‘neutrality’ is a favourable option for the private sector. Companies that stay silent send a message that rights and equity are negotiable. Silence, in my experience, can be both reputationally and ethically compromising which, during uncertain times, is not ideal if your brand and reputation is under the microscope.

DEI is not a passing political trend.

It’s a human and economic imperative – one that businesses must continue to champion with courage, data, and intent.

Private Sector Engagement in Southeast Asia: The Moment for Bold Action

For fourteen years, as long as I’ve lived in Saigon, I’ve been blogging about ‘Private Sector Engagement’ – its evolution, its setbacks, and its vast potential to drive social and economic change. Time and again, I’ve emphasized one thing: alliances with business are not just beneficial, they are essential.

Yet, at a time when global companies are facing political pressure to roll back Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) programs, there’s a real risk that corporate commitments to broader social impact (including sustainability, worker rights, and responsible business practices) could be deprioritized or abandoned altogether.

With government funding for aid shrinking fast, the question is no longer whether the private sector should play a role in sustainable development – but how fast we can make that happen? Companies must resist the temptation to step away from ESG (Environmental, Social and Governance) commitments, or drop impact-driven business models. Instead, they must double down on sustainable, long-term strategies that create both profit and positive change.

Rather than dwelling on the alarming consequences of these funding cuts (which many commentators are documenting well), I want to underscore why this moment demands a shift.

From my work in sustainability consulting, business partnerships, and initiatives with CARE, I’ve identified the following key trends shaping this transformation.

The Rise of Impact-Driven Partnerships

Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) in Southeast Asia has long been philanthropy-driven, with companies donating to social causes without embedding impact into their core business. That’s shifting.

While there’s still a place for sponsorships, more businesses now see the value in long-term, strategic partnerships with NGOs and social enterprises. CARE has always been my “go-to” on this, for examples of the innovations used to secure “win-win” partnerships with corporations – I’ve listed their collaborations over the years with the likes of Barclays, Allianz and GSK as just a few examples.

In Southeast Asia, many other organisations have worked collaboratively with companies. World Vision & Procter & Gamble in the Philippines, for example, ran a Hope in Garbage project, which collected 3.2 million plastic sachets and 870,000 plastic bottles, upcycling them into 1,040 chairs for schools – a great model for sustainability and education impact.

Here in Vietnam, The East Meets West Foundation, also known as ‘Thrive Networks’, partnered with GE Healthcare to enhance healthcare infrastructure leading to the development of medical institutions, and the provision of custom-designed equipment to hospitals, aimed at improving neonatal care and reducing infant mortality rates. ​

Even in industries like apparel, where brands once relied on short-term worker welfare programs, we now see the co-development of ethical supply chains with sustainability organizations. CARE and the ILO’s early 2000s work laid a lot of the foundations for this, and entities now, such as RISE, are pushing ethical supply chain development even further as result.

Where to from here? To me, the answer is clear. Organizations – NGOs, especially – engaging with the private sector need to move beyond sponsorship requests and, instead, position themselves as strategic partners that bring business value, through such things as innovation, market access, or risk mitigation.

The Shift from Compliance to ESG-Driven Business Models

ESG factors are becoming a competitive advantage, rather than a regulatory burden. Investors, consumers, and governments are increasingly pressuring businesses to embed sustainability into their operations. The result of which is that large corporations are developing ESG frameworks, not just to comply with regulations, but to attract investors and gain consumer trust.

And with this trend, we are seeing multinationals now pushing sustainability requirements down their supply chains, impacting SMEs and local businesses.

Governments in our region are also starting to integrate ESG into investment policies and corporate reporting frameworks. Both Vietnam and Indonesia, for example, highlight ESG in financial reporting, investment strategies, and regulatory frameworks.

Vietnam even has a “report or explain” framework and Corporate Governance Code which both promote transparency, while Indonesia’s OJK Regulation No. 51/2017 mandates ESG disclosure for listed companies.

As ESG gains traction, the non-profit world can play a more prominent role in ensuring businesses go beyond compliance to create real social and environmental impact. NGOs can add value by training smaller companies on ESG compliance, reporting, and sustainable business models, and also facilitating partnerships that ensure corporate ESG aligns with local needs. There is also room for NGOs to play a role in accountability, monitoring ESG commitments, preventing greenwashing, and pushing for stronger corporate governance.

The Growth of Market-Based Solutions & Inclusive Business Models

Lastly, one of the most exciting trends I think Southeast Asia is experiencing, is the rise of businesses integrating social impact into their core revenue models. Rather than treating sustainability as a cost center, companies are developing commercially viable solutions that also drive impact.

As such “circular economy” models are emerging, particularly in sectors like textiles, packaging, and agriculture. Whilst social enterprises are scaling through corporate partnerships, blending business growth with community impact.

I saw this firsthand as early as 2007, when I worked on CARE’s rural sales initiative in Bangladesh – a project that later spun off as JITA, itself a stand-alone social enterprise in 2012. Since then, the region has only expanded its approach, with more companies exploring inclusive business models that drive both profit and impact.

These ventures, requiring businesses to engage with underserved communities, need cross-sector expertise, opening up opportunities for collaboration between the private sector, NGOs, and impact investors. Organizations that can align their business goals with market-based impact solutions will, in my opinion, have a stronger case for funding and growth partnerships.

Where to Next?

Private sector engagement in Southeast Asia is no longer an option in my view – it’s a necessity. With aid funding brutally slashed, ESG becoming mainstream, and political pressure mounting against corporate social commitments, businesses and impact organizations must collaborate in smarter, more strategic ways.

In the face of backlash against DEI, we must recognize that ESG, sustainability, and inclusive business aren’t just about good optics – they are about long-term business resilience, risk management, and innovation.

Businesses should move beyond compliance and integrate ESG and impact into their core strategy, rather than retreating from it. Whilst NGOs must stop just chasing sponsorships and become strategic partners that offer value.

The opportunity is there for the taking. The question is: who’s ready to lead, and who will fall behind?

#IWD 2025

https://blackgirlnerds.com/audre-lorde-a-lasting-legacy/

Tomorrow is International Women’s Day and I’ve spent much of my Friday so far pretending no one really cares about events such as “IWD.”

This is an innately male inclination, it occurs to me, given us men have been in the firing line now for an uncomfortable amount of years (is it ten already?) hearing about the importance of women’s empowerment and gender equality.

I have blogged time and again about gender issues, largely because I worked for an organisation whose mission was to empower women, and address the inequalities they face. Aside from being paid money to support this mission, I happened to also fundamentally believe that gender equality was critical for the world.

Perhaps naively, in December 2011, I wrote this piece on my way back from a conference in India, in which I stated I was “hopeful” that women’s empowerment was on the rise. Businesses, I gushed, were hosting conferences on the topic, no less.

“Hopeful”. Not a great statement of mine to re-read. Kind of ironic?

No matter that the UK suffragette movement was the best part of one hundred years old, as I was offering my insights. I was hopeful.

Nor was I put off, at the time, by some of the infamous predictions being bandied around by “the Scandinavian’s” that gender equality would only be realised “in about 150 year’s time”. And that was just in Norway.

Again, I remained hopeful, in Delhi on that trip, that things were changing.

I’d not cared, either, to really listen to those experts in my field who spoke of the “generational change” needed to have any impact on any social norms.

Nor had I accepted the caution presented to me, by colleagues, suggesting that bringing business to the table (this was my job at the time) to discuss women’s empowerment was, in fact, a flawed long-term strategy.

No, I was in India, I had spoken to people at a conference, and I was convinced the tides were turning.

Quite content with my findings, I was excited to fly home to my two daughters. They were not going to have to contend with half the pressures and discriminations dealt with by their mother, their grandmothers, or even their great-great-great grandmothers.

Re-reading my post from 2011, I do want to be celebrating IWD tomorrow, confident that the arc of things has shifted in the direction I foresaw. And, I am sure, over the weekend, I’ll read more about the positive changes that those organisations, and individuals, who do care about IWD, will be posting and sharing.

There have been things to celebrate. However, in my own words, summing up my Delhi trip (and what appears to be something of a get-out-jail-free card) I closed with this:

“ultimately…real change happens when we look within ourselves, and take responsibility for our actions, our perceptions, and place a value on those of others”

Not too bad an ending for a naive hopeful.

Wind forward a few years, and COVID-19 is upon us. The pandemic had horrific consequences for many millions of people. It seems to me that we also came close, during it, to experiencing many similar things together, not all of which were horrendous. We placed value on others during lockdown and, for some, I think that helped partially dilute these normative gender dynamics that have set the bar for our species for so long.

It was a “re-set” for sure. But, not for all, and looking back, not for long.

Today, with another IWD upon us, I can’t express enough how short it still feels we’ve fallen, of even the slightest tilt in the right direction.

Because, it’s still men.

Everywhere, and in charge of everything – men.

They control the world politically, commercially, financially, legally, militarily, judicially, and technologically.

Men run the world’s infrastructure, transportation, and the world’s media.

Men control natural resources and they dominate global relations and diplomacy.

Men head up religion and faith-based institutions, they govern sport and academia.

Men lead construction and real estate sectors, they are in charge of the world’s agriculture and food systems.

The leadership of healthcare and pharmaceutical industries is mostly male. They manage hospital boards, they fund medical innovations.

Even outside our planet, it’s men – who else? – leading our space agencies.

So what, you ask?

Some would claim the world is healthier, richer, more connected, more knowledgeable, more innovative, and more “prosperous” than ever before in our history. Thanks to men.

While others would suggest we’re experiencing the highest inequalities in society (which show no sign of decreasing) and face the most pressing environmental and societal catastrophes the world has seen. Also, thanks to men.

Men giveth, and then men taketh away? What is the conclusion to draw here, as we’ve no alternative model to use as some kind of controlled experiment?

We don’t know what any other dynamic looks like, because we’ve never got close to shifting from what we have always had.

Perhaps I’m perched on the fence of this argument? Which, you could say, is a comfortable compromise for a middle-aged white male like me – trying to learn from everyone, trying to see new perspectives, trying to be balanced. Try, try, try.

There has to be merit in seeking out balance, in remaining curious, in never being satisfied with the answer to a problem. I will stick by that and, fingers crossed, when I read this back in 2039, I’ve not reneged on that aspiration.

But, for today, I cannot wish enough to speed up the tidal changes that I alluded to fourteen years ago, and which Emily Pankhurst fought for last century, and others before her over the millennia.

If it took one thousand more #MeToo’s to fan the flames of the tiny spark which the original campaign ignited, then let’s have those one thousand now, and then one thousand more.

It simply cannot be as it has always been. It must, must shift. More women making decisions, more women taking control, more women shaping our world.

The picture above is of Audre Lord, writer and civil rights activist.

It was she who said:

“They tell us to shrink ourselves, to make space for their egos. But I will not be small so that they can feel big.”

And it was my dear friend, Milli Hill, speaking today in Prague at the launch of her book, who quoted Lord in her own masterstroke of a speech, entitled: A Life Less Apologetic.

It’s Milli’s words that have inspired me today and, in turn, those of Audre Lord and others she cites. More women shaping our world.

I am no longer ‘hopeful’. We need a Revolution.

It’s Polarisation, stupid

Two hours ago, Melania Trump entered Congress to a standing ovation and what felt like genuine affection from those inside. Perhaps the Republicans were applauding her sheer presence and willingness to support her husband. Others, it would not be too far-fetched to speculate, clapping in sympathy.

It is very difficult to ignore Donald Trump at the moment. As a result of which I find myself, out of visceral frustration, investing time this morning watching these live scenes, and making a decision to post a commentary of sorts onto a public platform.

My stomach is upside down even before the parade of Trump’s Cabinet enters, shuffling down the aisles making their overly emotional hand gestures and head nods to those strategically positioned at the end of each row to meet and greet them.

And then in walks the President, coolly sauntering through the fawning men and women, the politicians and army chiefs, the old-timers and the new hopefuls, none of whom make any effort to contain their exuberance at the prospect of touching Trump’s shoulder, shaking his hand or planting a kiss on his cheek.

For someone with Messiah Complex tendencies, this little pantomime walk can only be further stimulating an ego that has, and will continue to be, frontline news for the next four years.

With his spray tan almost the same shade as the wooden lectern at which he finally arrives, chants of “U-S-A!” eventually simmer down and Donald Trump, once again, has the world watching him.

On the Republican side of the room, it was akin to participating in the early stages of a wedding ceremony inside a church. Hair was slicked back or freshly blow-dried, America tie-pins had been buffed and then, on the other side, a sprinkle of silent protest, as many Democrats had dressed in pink (highlighting the unequal impacts on women the incumbent administration’s policies were having) and, once proceedings were underway, held up discreet signs saying “False” or “Save Medicaid”.

One would be forgiven for forgetting that it was only five days ago that Trump and Vance pincered Zelensky in the Oval Office, itself an acutely polarising moment for global onlookers. This particular “news” was brushed off by The White House (as most ugly spats and comments that Trump makes, are) over the weekend, and whilst the UK was hosting a peace summit with Zelensky and European leaders.

Never before has Harold Wilson’s line that “today’s news is tomorrow’s fish and chip wrapper” been more pertinent and chilling.

Vance, only yesterday, mocked the UK and France’s support of troops to Ukraine (he back-pedaled afterwards) but, then, that was yesterday. Trump’s tariff announcements went on to grab our attention, given they caused a huge stock market drop. According to Trump, he has been the most successful President in the country’s history and has only ‘grown’ America’s economy (in spite of it currently facing $37 trillion dollars worth of debt).

It is a circus. The whole enterprise that is Donald Trump is one ego-driven franchise dripping in power, greed, and male entitlement.

What will he say to Congress later about the mineral deal with Ukraine? What other verbal hand grenades will he drop before I’ve even finished typing these words?

Right now, as I do type this, he’s in full ring-master mode. Using more smoke and mirror bullshit in his speech to distract and deflect any criticisms that could be leveled at him. He’s cracking jokes about “no one knowing where Lesotho is” as he lists out what he calls “wasted” USAID initiatives. He calls Biden the “worst president in America’s history” and blames wokeness for just about everything.

He doesn’t stop spewing utter nonsense.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, America is back. We’ve accomplished more in 43 days than others have in 4 years or 8 years. There’s never been anything like it.”

Ain’t that the truth.

The man is unlike anyone the world has ever had in that role and yet, at the end of every statement he makes to Congress at the moment, half the room is up on its feet, smugly whooping and cheering and braying at the muted Democrats – their faces fallen, as much in embarrassment as in anger.

Behind him, Vance, and the Speaker of the House, two shiny mechanised puppets, synchronise their choreographed erections, like a pair of cuckoos on the stroke of a clock.

A friend told me this morning that it is as if Trump has been “taking a sledgehammer to a birthday cake”.

What scares me more, as he drones on and on, is just how many people keep applauding, not only his speeches, but his every horrific swing at yet another part of the birthday cake.

He’s put the world’s richest man in charge of slashing to pieces the world’s largest supporter of humanitarian assistance to the world’s poorest people. That decision, alone, is having unprecedented and harrowing global repercussions. Tonight, however, he draws only sycophantic praise at the mention of USAID cuts, and Elon Musk, sat as he is next to the Director of the FBI, stands to yet more applause.

Musk, one of those “unelected officials” that Trump has moments earlier claimed he is eradicating.

The President of the United States of America boasts on, listing his achievements like a proud toddler. And, with every reference he makes – on climate change, or the World Health Organisation, on ‘DOGE’, or the price of eggs – it dawns on me that I can’t watch any more of this speech, or this man, today.

He’s talking now about the Panama Canal and about Greenland. More jokes. More laughter. Oh, and he’s “received a letter” earlier today from Zelensky, saying he’s ready for peace. Well, I’m glad we got to Ukraine in the end, and that’s all settled now.

I can’t stand the fact that Trump is here on the screen, and that I’ve felt compelled to talk about him.

But, mostly, it scares me to wonder if this new paradigm of fake news will ever go away, and we will ever be able to hold reasonable, non-polarised political debates again?