Since the post-Cold War era, there has been an emerging ontological shift in the field of global development. The nexus of agency — which institutionally lies with the universities, heads of state, and international organizations of the Global North — must be transferred to the subjects of study. In other words, the dynamics of development work perpetuate the matrices of hegemony it aims to rectify, and the key to disabling the root of the problem is for the ‘recipients’ of aid to engineer solutions independently from neocolonial benevolence.
This principle has guided both development and globally minded organizations, like the United Nations and the World Bank, albeit mostly rhetorically. But the problems of development are inherent to its conceptual nature and cannot be divorced through reform; an ethical approach to development from a Global North perspective is reflexively self-defeating and demands structural refusal.
According to author and development expert Themrise Khan, “white saviorism” is the crux of this structural deficiency. She argues that white saviorism goes beyond an individual psychological tendency and reflects a deep-rooted colonial mindset that defines the very institutions that form the relationship between the Global North and Global South.
I had the opportunity to interview her on White Saviorism in International Development: Theories, Practices and Lived Experiences, a 2023 volume she co-edited with Dr. Kanakulya Dickson and Dr. Maïka Sondarjee. It features the works of various contributors from across the Global South to unveil the hypocrisies and colonial frameworks embedded in international development projects. The theoretical chapters and individual testimonies disrupt popular illusions of benevolence and philanthropy associated with the global aid and development industrial complex.
The book draws the origin of the saviorist mentality from colonialist rhetoric, which justified expansion under the pretense of ‘saving’ and ‘civilizing’ Indigenous peoples. This veneer of benevolence continues today; for example, Western powers have historically justified (and continue to justify) intervention in the Middle East under the guise of “saving Muslim women.”
Even development-centred endeavours fall prey to these epistemologically oppressive modes of thought that prioritize Western frameworks. For instance, Rose Esther Sincimat Fleurant’s chapter, “Imposition and Reproduction of White Saviorism in Haiti,” demonstrates that the foreign economic presence in Haiti portrayed as international development cooperation perpetuates colonial control. Similarly, Robert Kakuru’s chapter illustrates the hypocrisy of Western NGOs and governments who facilitate land grabbing by Western-backed corporations in Uganda in the aim of human rights protection.
When financial might flows southward, it brings with it the patronizing prescriptions of global hegemons. In these conditions, aid recipients struggle to develop self-sufficiency endogenously; they remain reliant on the goodwill of their northern benefactors and vulnerable to the mercurial moods of foreign technocrats. Aid is the small price the West pays to remain the globally-dominant force while claiming the moral high ground.
Khan, in response to her research experience in the aid and development complex, calls not for reform, but for the end of the aid system. She does not consider internal reform, improvement, or superficial shifts in power to be real solutions because they fail to address the core of the systematic divide between the Global North and South, which is based on both historical influences of colonial mentalities and contemporary differences in monetary and geopolitical power.
“Dependency can only be broken if the tap is turned off,” says Khan.
But after more than 30 years in the field, Khan says there has been minimal progress. The global development sector resists change, and Khan has faced heightened backlash for her dissent. She described her last years in development before stepping away as “disillusioning, debilitating, and infuriating.”
Academia seems aligned with the tenet that development efforts fail when led by groups that directly benefit from the global divide. The development literature stresses that the Global South should be sovereign over its own progress and the arbiter of its own terms of trade. Of course, this conclusion reflects a deeper paradox, in that dominant universities systematically exclude the peoples they are studying from their research, while simultaneously prescribing them moral, logistical, and economic directives.
Khan has made efforts to decolonize academic language, such as euphemistic definitions of national categories. In a paper Khan co-wrote, she elaborates on our tendency to settle on geographically-inaccurate cardinal distinctions — Global ‘North’ and ‘South’ — because technical inaccuracy is preferable to more politically charged terms, such as “developing” nations and “third world” countries. This concern aims to rectify a deeper disciplinary problem: the tendency to classify and reduce people and places into simplistic categories, enabling “one-size-fits-all” solutions based on idealized models that often misdiagnose and misaddress the realities of the Global South
In spite of continual reflexive reconfigurations of terms like ‘development’ ‘modernization’ in development, the difficulty of divorcing development from its colonial foundation remains present in academia when Western voices dominate. If we are to follow Khan’s advice — and the views among many development experts today — then both the theoretical and practical foundations of development must originate from the Global South.
Where does that leave the aspiring development student? Presumably, the desire to pursue international development stems from a desire to rectify the global inequalities perpetuated by our nations’ existence. Many students are critical of the World Bank, the United Nations, and of the abusive dynamics of many international NGOs, yet would not refuse to work for them if given the opportunity. The general rationalization is to ‘work the system from the inside’ — the prestige points are only an added bonus.
There is something conceptually absurd in assuming that we could solve the intergenerational challenges of a foreign country of which we have less knowledge after a baccalaureate in the field than an average citizen thereof. Most of the time, we do not even speak their language. Why would that fact change when given a position of power in some international institution, because we possess a degree from a respectable institution? Is this not an arrogance similar to the old colonial mindset to ‘teach’ others about progress and civility?
I asked Khan what advice she would give to students who are negotiating their personal aspirations to contribute to global progress against the fundamental politicization of their position in the paradigm. In response, she made an important distinction:
“You have to first question why you want to enroll in a program that is about international development. If it is because you want to do good for countries other than your own, then that is where the fallacy lies,” she said. “But if it’s just generally to do good, … local organizations in your own countries [are the key].”
She went on to criticize the neglect in Canada of indigenous communities and of unhoused populations. “The thought process shouldn’t be about doing good only outside your country. It’s possible in your country. It’s not particularly attractive, but it’s a great start.”
I am not suggesting that aid is not crucial in many ways, or that there is no room for Canadian voices in international development. I myself have written an article about the damaging impacts of USAID’s dissolution, and self-exclusion from the field seems like a counterproductive solution focused on virtue signalling. However, theory and mindset shape the practical applications of development work, and both are tainted by a structural dissonance on the nature of benevolent action and self-importance.
The structural contradictions of international development cannot be resolved through lukewarm cosmetic reform or well-intentioned participation in systems designed to perpetuate dependency. For students and practitioners in the Global North, the most honest first step is not a career at the World Bank or a posting abroad, but a rigorous interrogation of the assumptions that make such ambitions feel like altruism in the first place. Genuine progress, both globally and at home, requires that the most prominent voices belong to those who have the most at stake — and that may not always be us.
Edited by Lily Christopoulos
Disclaimer: This is an article written by a Staff Writer. Catalyst is a student-led platform that fosters engagement with global issues from a learning perspective. The opinions expressed above do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication.
Noé Beaudoin is a second year student at McGill majoring in International Development Studies and Economics and minoring in English. As a writer for Catalyst, she seeks to explore the interaction between current events abroad and cultural discourse and is particularly interested in the Middle East and climate action.