Yet while gun control is debated in the US domestically, few are aware of how arms exports in industrialized countries fuel conflict internationally.

Even more concerning is how planning for your retirement fuels conflict.

The arms industry and developed and developing countries.

First, the obvious. There is big money in the arms industry. Annual worldwide military spending is more than $1.5 trillion, and the top 100 arms manufacturers made USD $419 billion in 2010.

Developing countries currently account for 75% of all global arms-transfers agreements. It would be nice to think that these arms are going to stable democracies, but that would be naive.

Often unconcerned by pesky things like ethics, the arms industry ensures weapons go to whomever is willing to pay for them. So weapons go to authoritarian regimes, or are resold through illegal channels.

There are the notorious examples, such as Iran and China continuing to supply Sudanese president Omar Al-Bashir’s odious regime with arms while the genocide raged on, and certainly these governments along with others such as Russia should be held to account for their arms transfers. Yet countries like the US and Canada are also culpable.

Take for example the civil war in Sri Lanka. During the three years prior to the war’s end, Britain, other European countries, and the United States approved the export of arms and military equipment worth tens of millions of dollars to the government of Sri Lanka. The government (as well as the Tamil Tigers, the other side in the conflict) is now accused of committing war crimes and crimes against humanity near the end of the war.

While my home country of Canada prides itself on its history of peacekeeping (despite the fact it currently has fewer peacekeepers deployed than Yemen and Slovakia – but I digress) and its general niceness, it is in fact among the top ten arms exporters in the world. Over the past number of years it has had one of the lowest international Arms Transparency ratings among industrialized countries.

Further, in 2011 the Saudi Arabia National Guard used armoured vehicles bought from Canada to support the Bahraini government’s violent suppression of civil dissent in Bahrain.

So at the same time that many Canadians were cheering the efforts of activists to bring democracy to their countries during the Arab Spring, Canadian armoured vehicles were being used to violently suppress these activists.

The sales of such vehicles continue, and NGOs have raised concerns about how these vehicles will be used in Colombia.

“We are consumers of war.”

It’s not just governments. People like you and me are also implicated in the arms trade.

How? By engaging in what seems an innocuous and even laudable thing to do: saving for retirement. All too often pension plans invest in companies selling weapons that fuel atrocities around the globe.

Indeed, “killer pensions” is what one think tank in Ottawa calls pensions from the Canada Pension Plan (CPP), due to the plan’s investment in war industries. All Canadian workers pay into the CPP, which holds more than $200 million in 24 of the world’s top arms-producing companies.

It is the same in the United States. As one example, the New York State Teachers’ Retirement System has almost $2 billion invested in arms producers.

These and other public-sector worker funds in Canada and in the United States profit from the sale of military munitions including small arms, land mines, and cluster bombs. We as pension owners profit from the sale of military munitions without our knowledge or consent.

There is a dark irony in this for Canada, as it led the crusade for the Mine Ban Treaty and is a signatory to the international convention banning cluster munitions, yet has failed to follow the example of New Zealand, Norway and others that have divested completely from land mine and cluster bomb producers.

Commenting on these funds in her book “Damned Nations,” Samantha Nutt puts it succinctly thus: “we are consumers of war.”

Ensuring you don’t profit from conflict

They say money talks, and what our pensions say about our values isn’t flattering. Yet there are things you can do to ensure our governments and our pensions do not fund and profit from conflict around the globe.

You can begin at an individual level. Divest your personal investments from funds that invest in arms manufacturers, and ask questions of your fund managers – many funds with “ethical” investment policies nevertheless invest in military munitions.

The Stockholm International Peace Research Institute complies a list of the top 100 arms manufacturers, which you can consult to see which corporations your investments should avoid.

Further, you can demand your government do the same. If the governments of Norway, California and other places can see returns while investing ethically, so can yours.

Additionally, this month the United Nations conducts its final negotiating conference on the Arms Trade Treaty (ATT) to regulate the global arms trade. Control Arms, a coalition of NGOs, has information about this treaty available on its website and will be engaging supporters in its Global Week of Action March 11-17, before the negotiations on ATT begin at the end of the month.

We in industrialized countries are fortunate to live largely freely and safely, without fear of violence. It is not just that our comfortable retirements in these safe societies be funded by arms sales and conflict in other countries, and it is not necessary.

That is probably an oversimplification – food has always been political, as anyone familiar with the history of sugar or bananas knows, but it seems that now its politics have entered the mainstream, and that with the rate of our economic development, its politics have become more urgent.

In this politicised environment, hosting a dinner party becomes an exercise in diplomacy and a test of how many dietary restrictions one cook can accommodate. You’ll have people who eat white meat but not red, vegetarians who prefer not to eat tofu, those who are lactose intolerant, and people who prefer their bananas organic – and that’s just if you’ve invited me and my roommate for a meal.

How did it become this way? What does eating ethically and sustainably look like in 2012? How do we balance a desire to eat sustainably with a desire to respect cultural attitudes toward food?

Growing up with dinner in the backyard

Food at its most basic exists as sustenance, but it also a powerful part of culture. Many religious rituals centre on food or refraining from eating it, from the Christian breaking of bread, to the Jewish Passover Seder, to Islam’s Ramadan. And religion aside, what would any wedding or gathering of family be without a meal to bring people together?

My brothers and I were forbidden from telling our younger sister that this guy would end up on our plates. (Jane Smith)

Food was important to my upbringing. As a child, the vegetables I ate were from the garden, and the steak on my plate came from the pasture behind our house. (One year my mom christened the bovine my dad chose to be butchered “Stu,” as stew was his ultimate fate.)

I wear this history on my skin. Years ago, I caught my arm on one of the barbs of the barbed wire fence that pens the cattle in. The scar remains there today, my agricultural roots  tattooed on my body.

We all have powerful memories associated with food. Learning to cook from our mothers. The first time cooking for a partner. Experiencing the hospitality of those with far too little yet always enough to share a meal.

Facing our upside-down food system

Yet as many of us know, food is much more than our culture and our upbringing. Sadly, much in our food system perpetuates inequality, drives unsustainable growth, and harms our environment.

Here are a couple of facts about food and our food system that continue to boggle my mind:

• currently, five biotech companies account for nearly 80% of patents on living organisms (i.e. – plants and seeds)
• European cows receive more in annual subsidies than the average income in Sub-Saharan Africa (2003 Human Development Report, p. 155)
• one-third of the American corn crop goes to ethanol production, which has a negative effect on those who rely on corn as their primary food
• for every fast food burger made from rainforest beef, 16.75 square metres of tropical rain forest has been cleared, with a fifth of the Brazilian Amazon rainforest being destroyed since the 1970s. (Although the good news is the rate of deforestation is falling.)

As all vegetarians do, I own a dress made of leaves but I generally save it for special occasions. (PETA Asia-Pacific)

When looking at these figures, and taking into account other concerns about health and animal rights,  it’s no surprise that new dietary habits like eating local and vegetarianism are becoming more common, and they’re making their way beyond environmentalists and food activists. (Although there are those who challenge the focus on agricultural productivity when discussing food security.)

I gave up meat four years ago, initially making an exception for the cattle raised on my family’s farm, but then giving that up too. (My family is very proud of me.)

It’s become a point of connection with others, providing instant affinity with other vegetarians.

Yet when a vegetarian colleague, who has previously had postings Tajikistan, Congo, and other far-flung places across the world, told me she used to decline meat from Tajiks and Congolese, I was taken aback. Something about it rubbed me the wrong way – is it rude to  refuse such hospitality, even with the best of reasons?

And if so, then why is it okay for me to refuse such hospitality from my family?

I don’t know the answers to these questions. I feel the tension between wanting to eat sustainably and wanting to respect and partake in others’ (and even my own) culture.

Tensions at the intersection of food, culture and sustainability

My own complicated relationship with food illustrates the difficulties of untangling the personal and political aspects of food. While I haven’t had meat in years, I can’t quite bring myself to completely sell my (much more symbolic than lucrative) shares in the family farm.

I remember cold nights spent bottle-feeding newborn calves in the barn with one of my brothers, the way the cattle would lift their heads from grazing and run towards my dad at the sound of his voice, and the memorable times the cows broke free from the pasture and traipsed through our vegetable garden, and I can’t bring myself to sever ties with this.

Yet in the future we may have to, collectively as a society. Our rate of economic development may make meat a thing of the past (or a thing of test tubes), and there are many other elements of our food system that need to change.

While I understand that, I still wonder about the impact on cultures, on traditions, on families.

So I’ll keep holding onto my shares in the family farm even as I decline its meat, and I’ll continue to think about these tensions every time I make myself a lentil burger or pass on the roast my family is having.

What is your relationship with food like?

So rather than recognising our second birthday, we’re going to pretend it never happened, and instead celebrate our 200th post here at WhyDev. Two hundred posts is an exciting milestone, all the more when you consider we’ve had over 50 different people from all around the world contribute to this number. We’ve also had over 1000 people comment on our site, and we’re only scratching the surface. Our hopes of fostering collaboration and discussion around aid and development are increasingly being fulfilled.

To celebrate, I asked for the afternoon off but was told I only get time off when I’ve personally written 200 posts. So instead, Brendan, Weh and I picked some of our favourite posts from the last year or so. This was by no means an easy task, as there have been so many good pieces written over the past year.

Thanks to everyone who has contributed to such an array of interesting and thoughtful posts and discussions here at WhyDev, and here’s to the next 200 posts!

Brendan’s three picks:

Is “sustainable development” an oxymoron? by Erin Nash

In the first of a three-part series delivered by Erin for WhyDev, she takes on the concept of “sustainable development” with dexterity and ease. Any talk about sustainable development will involves ethics, politics, philosophy, economics, environment, life, the universe and everything. It is complex, and the answer is not “42.” But, Erin manages to keep it simple and communicate the issues, all while presenting hard-hitting facts and colourful infographics.

Don’t change the message. Change the messenger. by Weh Yeoh

Weh has single-handedly expanded WhyDev’s presence in Cambodia since he moved there earlier this year, and his impact can be seen in the number of business cards handed out. Even more impressive, is this evidence-based post that suggests we need to shift who advocates on human rights and development issues. It is not so much the message that is important, but who is delivering it. Too bad no one told Weh before he delivered this thought-provoking post.

Aid Blogging: A Cautionary Tale in Charts by Aaron Ausland

To lighten the mood, and put blogging and social media in perspective, Aaron Ausland presents nine charts exploring the impact of those like himself. His findings may shock you, but do not be alarmed. It also provides a clear path for those who want to make more of an impact in the blogging and social media space of aid and development.

Weh’s three picks:

The problem of donating to disaster relief efforts (and how NGOs can start to solve it) by Allison Smith

In her seminal piece for WhyDev, and before realising the extent of slings and arrows that joining the team would entail, Allison wrote a cracking piece that caught the eye of many of us, including Brendan and myself. Allison managed to get on the radio and also joined us as our Communications Manager, partially due to this piece! Dreams can come true, it seems. For us.

The archaeology of my professional identity in development by Brendan Rigby

Brendan has written a lot of great posts over the past two and a bit years, ranging from the incredibly practical, to the phenomenally popular, to the extraordinarily pointless. Each and every one of them has been enjoyable and worth the time. But this post was something different. Brendan revealed something inside of himself which most would dare not do. He is Batman.

What makes an effective non-profit? by Akhila Kolisetty

I learn something new every time I read a piece by Akhila, and she is perhaps my favourite young writer out there. She has a uncanny knack of cutting through to the heart of the issue without the BS that often goes with it. So much so that when I read her work, I often think to myself “well yeah – that was obvious.” Except often it’s not, and often I’d never thought about it in that way. This piece is no exception.

Allison’s three picks:

So what if 90% of money donated goes to the program? by Weh Yeoh

If you’ve worked in development for longer than five minutes, you know the incredible pressure to keep overhead costs low. In this post, Weh discusses how this fixation with overhead costs is bad for development, and how individuals and NGOs can work to dispel the myth that low overheads = good development. Critical reading for anyone who works for an NGO or who has ever given to one.

Top Five Aid Myths Busted by Archie Law

Ever had a nice family meal descend into a screaming match when the ethics or effectiveness of aid has been questioned? Spare your vocal cords the pain and print out a copy of Archie’s post to distribute at your next family get-together.

International Volunteerism: who benefits most? by Michaela Brown

I know many people who have done short-term international volunteer trips. I know few who have examined their motives and impact the way Michaela does in this post. The discussion in the comments is also worth your time.

What are your top WhyDev posts? What are your top aid and development blog posts in general?

What are some topics you’d like to see WhyDev tackle in its next 200 posts?

Where you once arrived at work with enthusiasm, you’re now bogged down in attending meetings that don’t seem to go anywhere, writing reports that you’re not sure anyone reads, or asking unsettling questions as to whether you’re making any difference. Throw in the stresses and isolation that can accompany working in development and you’re wondering why you thought this was a good career option.

Maybe your dissatisfaction isn’t that severe. Maybe it’s just a vague discontent… you’re bored. You want more out of your job, but you can’t even articulate what or why. It just doesn’t seem that interesting anymore.

Over a year ago at a staff retreat, the facilitator broke us off into pairs and told us to share with our partner a project we’d really enjoyed working on and what its outcomes were. I told my colleague about work I’d previously done with an organization on food security.

“Allison,” she said after listening to me, “your eyes are shining. They haven’t done that in a long time.”

It was true. I felt discouraged at my job rather than inspired, and it was having a tangible effect on even how I spoke and appeared physically.

There were specific reasons for that at the time, of course, but after reading Daniel Pink’s “Drive,” I realized there were three broad things missing from my job then. If you’re feeling constrained, bored, or disillusioned with your job, chances are one or more of these elements is missing from your job now.

1. Autonomy

Do you like being told what to do? Or how to do it? Or when to do it?

Probably not. Not many of us do. Indeed, researchers have found a link between autonomy and well-being in countries all around the world, from Russia to Turkey to Bangladesh.

Autonomy has been linked to better grades, higher productivity and, perhaps most relevant to aid workers, less burnout. (Pink pp.88-9).

It’s tricky to have much autonomy when just starting a career, as it’s usually something you receive as your career progresses. But if you want to love your job, you have to figure out how to carve out some autonomy.

If you feel helpless to direct any of your work at your job, try to take the lead on even one project, so that you’re in the driver’s seat for something rather than at the whim of others for everything.

2. Mastery

Think of the last time you were completely entranced in an activity, when time passed quickly and you were so deeply in the moment that everything other than the task melted away. Chances are, whether this was when you played a sport, wrote a poem, or delivered a presentation, it was while you were improving your ability to do the activity.

As Pink writes, this is mastery – the desire to get better and better at something that matters (more on the “something that matters” part later).

The mismatch between what people must do and what they can do is a source of frustration in the workplace. “When what they must do exceeds their capabilities, the result is anxiety. When what they must do falls short of their capabilities, the result is boredom” (Pink p.117).

Don’t be content to coast where you’re at – if you’re not working towards mastery of a particular skill you will eventually become disengaged and start to lose interest in your job.

Make sure professional development is part of your work plan. If it’s not or you don’t have a formal work plan, create a learning plan for yourself anyway.

3. Purpose

We need to feel that we are contributing to a cause larger than ourselves. Any development worker is well aware of this need and is actively pursuing a career with purpose. Yet, I believe this is where there can be a large gap between the sense of purpose development workers expect to feel in their jobs and the sometimes harsh reality of those jobs.

The cynicism of aid workers is no secret. Unfortunately, the day-to-day of working in development can wear you down and make you question if you’re really making a difference.

Even more unfortunately, I don’t have an easy five-step plan for finding purpose when you’re teetering on the edge of disillusionment. But here are a few suggestions that may help:

• Don’t let concepts such as capacity-building, monitoring and evaluation, and efficiency crowd out ideals like truth, love, justice and beauty. You need these ideals. They will feed your sense of purpose.
• Carve out time to do what is most meaningful to you. In one study, a test group of doctors allowed to spend one day a week on the aspect of their job most meaningful to them had half the burnout rate of those who were not (Pink p.141).
• Set purpose goals (such as to learn about something or to help others improve their lives) rather than profit goals (such as accumulating wealth or winning praise). This should be self-evident to many development workers, but if you do see yourself desiring that promotion more than desiring to be of use to those around you, check yourself. You may be veering off-purpose.

If you’re not currently satisfied in your job, check against these three elements. What’s missing? How can you reclaim some autonomy, work towards mastery of a skill, or renew your sense of purpose?

If you can, the personal satisfaction and ultimately your engagement and productivity at work will be significant. As Pink writes:

“We’re designed to be active and engaged. And we know that the richest experiences in our lives aren’t when we’re clamouring for validation from others, but when we’re listening to our own voice – doing something that matters, doing it well, and doing it in the service of a cause larger than ourselves” (p.145).

What challenges do you find attaining autonomy, mastery and purpose while working in development?

How have you combatted this?

I’m in that shimmering phase of life where your dreams start to find you.

I used to think dreams started from the inside and worked their way out, that they came from your core and grew until they got so big you couldn’t contain them anymore and had to act.

I still think that’s true to a degree, but as I said, I’m now seeing that my dreams are finding me.

My dreams didn’t include working on a project to potentially help thousands of people across the world; now I’m one of three people here at whydev working on a peer coaching initiative for aid workers that may in fact do so. (You can support us as we work towards this dream over at StartSomeGood.) They didn’t include learning how to improve how organisations run until I started my first real job in an organisation; now I have dreams of doing an MBA. (One day, I hope to meet someone that makes me dream about family and domesticity in a way I don’t right now.)

These are just two examples of how two of my dreams found me. Now they influence the conversations I have, the plans I make, the things I read, the people I learn from, the friends I have, the way I perceive the world. I don’t think it’s much of an exaggeration to say they influence every aspect of my life.

As my dreams have found me, I’ve been more and more interested in observing those around me who have reached their goals and lived their dreams. As I work towards my personal and professional dreams, I find it helpful to look to those who are living their own dreams.

Here’s what I’ve observed about those who realize their dreams.

1. Their dreams are feasible for them

This does not mean that they will find it easy to realize their dreams. It just means their dreams are possible for them, that these people have figured out what they’re good at and passionate about and have a dream at the intersection of the two.

This seems obvious, but it’s not to everyone. I think of people who dream of being teachers without recognising their impatient personalities make working with children impossible, or those who dream of success on Broadway without facing that they can’t really dance. These are dreams that aren’t feasible.

The best dreamers know themselves well so that their dreams line up with their passions, skills, experiences, and personality.

2. They are surrounded by others chasing their dreams…

Chasing your dreams can require single-minded focus, at times to the exclusion of other aspects of your life. I’ve found it to be much easier to lock myself away to work on a project when others around me have understood why I would choose studying/blogging/working on a Saturday night over going to a wine and cheese soirée.

The people who truly understand those kinds of things are the ones also sacrificing things for their dreams. They understand, and they encourage and support you as you pursue your dreams.

3. … but they’re not afraid to go it alone

I was recently reminded of a quote from composer Jean Sibelius: “Pay no attention to what critics say. No statue has ever been put up to a critic.”

Well, I may one day put up a statue to William Easterly, but for the most part Sibelius is correct. The best dreamers understand this, as they inevitably face some robust criticism.

In a post on dreams, this may be the time to invoke Martin Luther King Jr. Thank goodness he didn’t abandon his dream when faced with opposition.

4. They learn from others smarter than themselves

It requires humility to learn from others when pursuing a dream, and it’s not always easy to open yourself up to suggestions from others for something as personal as a dream. But it’s worth it.

I’m never so excited about my dreams as when I have the chance to discuss them with other like-minded people who are smarter than me. They make me think about achieving my dreams in creative ways I never would have considered, and that’s exciting.

5. Their dreams are dynamic

There’s a poignant passage in the book “The Alchemist” where a merchant describes his dream to visit Mecca. For years, he’s watched people pass through his shop on their pilgrimage to Mecca, and now he can finally afford to go himself.

Yet he doesn’t. Instead he confesses, “I’m afraid that if my dream is realized, I’ll have no reason to go on living.”

I can’t imagine anything sadder or more untrue. I’m continuously amazed by the dynamism of those who dream big, how their dreams expand and evolve and lead to new dreams. For these people, the realisation of one dream often leads to another.

This gives me incredible hope. When I’ve achieved a dream, it doesn’t mean I’ve reached the end of dreaming. And if one dream doesn’t come true, another dream will find me.

***

I feel blessed to be chasing my dreams, and there have been many times that I’ve turned to a friend and said, “We’re living the dream!” Indeed, as I was mid-way through writing this post, a good friend called to excitedly share how she’s getting closer to realising a dream she’s had for a while. Dreams are all around me.

Often I’ve said it facetiously, but here I’ll say it seriously: I’m living the dream, and I’m fortunate to be learning from others who are too.

What have you observed about those who realize their dreams? Are you living your dream in aid and development?

And, that talented individual is Allison Smith. Allison has only written one post for whydev so far, but it was a cracker. Moreover, she has shown us privately, and will show you publicly, that she is more than capable of helping guide the direction of whydev to where we want to be. Allison has a background in communications, so it seems only natural that she take over much of the work in that area. You’ll be hearing a lot more from Allison in the future, and we are ecstatic to have her on board.

Allison:

After two years as a collaborative and participatory platform for those interested in global issues, it became clear to both Brendan and Weh that there was an unfortunate lack of Canadian and female presence on the whydev team. So I was asked to join, and begin today as Sub Editor and Communications Manager for whydev.

Okay, so perhaps Brendan and Weh thought I’d bring more to the table than an extra X chromosome and a different accent (you can read more about my professional background here). A major part of my role will be managing the blog (help me out by pitching your ideas to me at allison@whydev.org, but I’ll also be helping out with various other things going on around the site.

As Brendan, Weh and I discussed joining the team, there were a few things from our conversations that stuck out to me and made me want to come on board. I’m sharing them with you in the hopes that they’ll make you want to get involved, too.

• Experience not necessary. The first sentence under “about dev” reads “whydev.org is a platform for everyone interested in discussing a diverse range of topics from international development and foreign aid to career advice and morality.” Note my emphasis on “everyone” – it’s not for those just who have years of experience in development. It’s for everyone with an interest in these issues, and I’m a perfect example of that.
• Tone not judgmental. The whydev team affirms that you can be critical without being cynical or judgmental, and that approach resonates with me. There are many (hilarious) snarky aid blogs out there; it’s good to have a space that is more accessible.
• Censorship not practiced. This clinched it for me. Whydev is committed to discussing ideas from a wide range of perspectives, regardless of personal opinions of those on the team, because it’s the discussion that’s important, and not the promotion of a whydev agenda. This is unique from many sites and blogs, which by nature are often run by one person or a particular organisation with a particular perspective, and in my view this distinguishes whydev.

So there you have it. Those are some of the whydev values that made me want to be involved; I hope you feel the same way, because there are certainly lots of things to be involved in. Here are a few things on the horizon:

• Peer coaching. If you’re working in aid and development and have ever felt isolated, you should take a look at this initiative.
• Face-to-face networking events. These face-to-face networking opportunities serve as a physical whydev presence and are a chance to discuss development with others.
• Rethinking development studies. We’ve been approached by a university to help rethink what development studies is all about, and will be getting the whydev community’s input on this.
• Diversifying content. We’re looking at partnering with folk and organisations who specialise in visual and audio content, so that our content is more diverse.
• Website and logo redesign. To reflect all these changes that are going on, we’re going to have a new website and logo up and running in the near future. More on this soon.

In a nutshell: lots is going on, and we want you to be a part of it. If you have ideas for whydev to pass on, or any good vegetarian recipes, drop me a line at allison@whydev.org. You can also say ‘hi’ on Twitter at @asmithb.

Unfortunately, it is far from the only natural disaster or crisis to strike within recent years. We’ve seen the outpouring of donations to disaster relief efforts in such places as Thailand and Japan (although the response has not always been consistent, as previously discussed in this whydev post on the Pakistan floods). The numbers are staggering: within ten days of the Haiti earthquake two years ago, $742 million had been committed to relief and a further $920 million pledged. The total eventually ballooned to over $3.5 billion.

The compassion and concern that people feel for strangers across the world is touching and even inspiring. Who could argue against such an outpouring of generosity?

A GOOD infographic shows the entities that had given $1 million or more to Haiti one week after the earthquake. The orange represents donations from individuals.

Well, I can, and I’m not the first. All too often, the well-intended donations to disaster relief, motivated by emotion, are not as helpful as some would have you believe. Here’s why.

Often, donations take too long to be processed to be of any use on the ground.

I can’t say it better than this excerpt from the Disease Control Priorities report on the GiveWell blog (in a post entitled “The case against disaster relief,” which is certainly worth a read):

The immediate lifesaving response time is much shorter than humanitarian organisations recognise. In a matter of weeks, if not days, the concerns of both the population and authorities shift from search and rescue and trauma care to the rehabilitation of infrastructure (temporary restoration of basic services and reconstruction). In Banda Aceh, Indonesia, after the December 2004 tsunami, victims were eager to return to normalcy while external medical relief workers were still arriving in large numbers.

So, if I donate my $20 to the Red Cross’ tsunami relief a few days after the tsunami occurred, and it takes a few weeks for the Red Cross to process this donation, my donation has arrived too late to meet the pressing need.

Disaster relief agencies can receive too much money to put to use.

Is your $20 really needed?

It’s a problem many other non-profits who are burned out from writing grant proposals would love to have, but it’s a problem nonetheless, and it raises questions of accountability to donors. If Red Cross is swimming in donations and cannot responsibly spend my $20 in Thailand, is it okay if it spends my money elsewhere.

In the aftermath of the 2004 tsunami in the Indian Ocean, the Red Cross was not the only relief agency facing this problem, but some other charities would not publicly admit to being over-saturated with donations, for fear of propagating a belief that they would not need donations in the future, as discussed in this Times article.

This thinking gets us into a grey zone where transparency and accountability are not at the forefront of NGOs’ actions, and that leaves me feeling uneasy.

In-kind donations (such as blankets, clothing, etc.) can be unnecessary or even logistically harmful to recovery efforts.

While certainly not approaching the scale of devastation seen in other places we’ve discussed, a fire in my home country of Canada razed one-third of Slave Lake,  Alberta in 2011. This necessitated the evacuation of 95% of the town’s residents, and the events that followed illustrate perfectly the bother in-kind donations can be.

Well-intentioned donors collected things for the residents of Slave Lake with such enthusiasm that there was far more stuff than was necessary, and some of it ended up in a landfill. This caused a minor PR mess for the charities, always fun for us in non-profit communications to deal with.

This is a small and relatively harmless example of in-kind donations, but you can imagine the logistic, economic and political problems that could arise when, say, receiving donated food items in Somalia.

If I’ve made my case as well as I hope I have, you’ll concede there are many difficulties with the public’s overwhelming support for disaster relief. So, the next question is: what should disaster relief agencies do about it?

That’s not an easy question to answer, but here are some ideas for ways they can communicate with the public to minimise some of the above problems, and facilitate more sustainable and effective giving. They’re certainly not a panacea, but provide a place to start.

Facilitate structured giving, rather than one-offs.

Those who budget and plan their charitable giving donate about three times as much as those who don’t, at least in Canada. In other words, donors who give habitually give more.

This represents a fantastic opportunity for disaster relief agencies; if they could make regular giving a habit among those who give one-time donations after disasters, it would pay off.

There are many different ways of doing this. The easiest, and one that is becoming more and more common, is to make it possible for donors to give monthly donations of a set amount. For NGOs, receiving 12 monthly donations of $10 is usually better than receiving a one-time donation of $120, as it allows them to better plan their operations and ensures that when there is a disaster, there are already donations they can use. Explaining this to donors would be helpful.

Another is to make charitable giving a part of established events or traditions. World Vision’s gift catalogue takes advantage of people’s habit of buying gifts during the holiday season by encouraging donations to “purchase” a goat or other gifts for those in developing countries. Another example is Meal Exchange’s Halloween Trick or Eat campaign, where volunteers visit households in Canada to ask for donations to food banks. In both cases, the organisations take advantage of existing traditions to make giving to them part of the tradition.

A step further is for organisations to create their own regular events or traditions to facilitate donations. Movember stands out as the best example of this, as it has raised millions of dollars for men’s health initiatives while claiming November as the month for men to channel their inner P.I. Magnum/Ned Flanders/other moustachioed alter egos. Similarly, United Way does annual workplace campaigns to raise funds. In both cases, the organisations have made giving to them an annual event, and part of donors’ habits.

When necessary, decline donations.

Yes, you read that right. When relief agencies receive more donations than they need for a specific disaster, they should stop taking them. After the 2011 earthquake in Japan, the Japanese Red Cross clearly and admirably stated it did not need donations. (This went unheeded by the American Red Cross, which in the four days after the earthquake raised $34 million in the name of Japan’s earthquake victims.)

Similarly, less than a week after the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami, Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF)-France stopped accepting donations for tsunami relief. When they received 110 million Euros after this announcement, they asked donors’ permission to use these funds for other emergencies and forgotten crises. To the 1% of donors who did not grant their permission for their donations to be diverted to other crises, MSF-France refunded their money.

Sadly, MSF-France’s decision was viewed with dismay from other NGOs, many of whom either denounced it outright or demanded that it be explained very carefully, so the public would not misunderstand. When the gravy train of emotional giving begins, it’s not always popular to say it should stop. (See David Rieff’s excellent article for more on this particular case and what he calls “the humanitarian circus.”)

The public often perceive NGOs as wasting donations, spending too much on overheads, and being inefficient. There is no better way to perpetuate this attitude than by accepting donations for causes where donations aren’t needed. Disaster relief agencies need to be more responsible with donations, and at times that will mean declining them.

I recognise this is not an exhaustive list of solutions, and they aren’t easy solutions. Nevertheless, they provide a place to start improving our humanitarian aid, ultimately for the better of both NGOs working in disaster relief and the people they’re trying to help. Because disasters are emotional events and people are more generous when reacting emotionally, it is easy to capitalise on a disaster to solicit donations. But that doesn’t make it the best thing to do.