To Hell With Good Intentions

In response to our recent class topics and discussions about natural disasters and the communication theories that tie in to them, I remembered an address I had read given by author Ivan Illich to the Conference of InterAmerican Student Projects (CIASP) in Mexico in 1968. His audience is made up of potential volunteers for the organization, and takes place in a decade where young people of affluent families participated in what Illich refers to as “mission vacations.” To the students, his declarations were direct and concise. To me, they were extremely thought provoking, and more importantly, still relevant.

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” is a proverb believed to be coined by 12^th century French abbot Bernard of Clairvaux. Clairvaux was informing his congregation that it is still possible to sin even if you are acting in good faith. Illich re-conveys this idea to the students in attendance, along with his no-holds bar statement of their pending hypocrisy if they choose to continue with their missions.

Illich tells the crowd;

“[he] does not doubt the enormous good will of the U.S. volunteer, however, his good faith can usually be explained only by an abysmal lack of intuitive delicacy. By definition, you cannot help being ultimately a vacationing salesman for the middle-class ‘American way of life’ since that is really the only way of life you know.”

This quote is representative of modernization theory, and is an example of discourse of the dominant paradigm. Illich is supporting the idea that the West, or the U.S. specifically, assumes that the western model is applicable elsewhere, and is important to “development.” It also refers to the thought that rationality and progress are synonymous with economic growth. So, in order to ‘develop’ your specific country or region, one must follow the western model of modernization. This thought is reinforced by the idea that economic growth, which will be achieved if the western model is applied, proves societal rationale and progress.

He then informs the student audience that simply the existence of organizations such as theirs is offensive to Mexicans. This is a good example of our (American, Western) egocentric nature, the concepts of our self-identity and the “other,” and how we use these things to establish our superiority, and consequently, generate more knowledge about us. The peoples that we are intending to aid/develop/assist end up becoming props that reinforce our idea of self, and how we view ourselves. We see these selfless endeavors as living proof of our supreme generosity, our innate humanitarianism shining through. But in all reality, this is just another example of how we use our position to further our own agenda, and leave those that we are supposed to be “helping” even farther behind. Because ultimately, helping relationships are power relationships.  Mexico, or other developing countries for that matter, are unable to pay us back in kind, so the depth of the leverage we hold over them continues to deepen. I believe this is in part what Illich was referring to as “an abysmal lack of intuitive delicacy.”

I had often contemplated the lasting effects for the country and/or region once we vacate our missions or volunteer cites. But, being from middle/working class America, I lack the foresight to predict such things. This speech was the first time I had the opportunity to be exposed to such an account:

All you will do in a Mexican village is create disorder. At best, you can try to convince Mexican girls that they should marry a young man who is self-made, rich, a consumer, and as disrespectful of tradition as one of you. At worst, in your "community development" spirit you might create just enough problems to get someone shot after your vacation ends_ and you rush back to your middleclass neighborhoods where your friends make jokes about "spits" and "wetbacks."

The next point made prompts me to consider the underlying initiative for our actions. In our multitude of organizations, we spend considerable amounts of money training the volunteers that we have to be able to assimilate to the culture, and withstand the culture shock that typically ensues. But, Illich points out how odd it is that no one has ever thought about investing time and money into educating the Mexicans or other indigenous peoples we encounter in order to prevent them from suffering from the culture shock from us. His idea was simple, and logic, profound.

Illich ends his speech with a reiteration to the audience to please, abandon their plans to volunteer. He doesn’t endorse giving up all hopes for humanitarian efforts, but to focus their “good-deeds” on their homeland, which during the 60’s, was not lacking for economic, social or political discourse.

I want to leave you with the thought that although I find Illich’s argument fascinating, I am in no way saying I do not support global humanitarian efforts. The different programs that exist today have made monumental steps toward mutual respect, understanding, and ultimately peace among nations. But, I do fear unexamined humanitarianism. Because no matter how noble our intentions may be, that road is paved with them.