By the Bootstraps

You can tell a man to lift himself up by his own bootstraps, but what if he has no feet?

Painting by Van Gogh (1895), as taken from Wikimedia (2012)

Painting by Vincent van Gogh (1895), as taken from Wikimedia (2012)

Like how the classic colloquialism of “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” assumes a set of standards that may not always apply, social interventions are only effective if they match the needs of the people they aim to serve. For instance, if I wanted to help a ward of impoverished patients by donating a dozen pairs of boots, I would get some pretty scornful looks if they were in the hospital for transfemoral amputations. My intentions may have been good, but if I don’t account for the experiences of everyone I hope to help, I may harm them more than help them. Unfortunately, many well-intended people look at the world as though through a mirror, assuming that everyone everywhere would share the same needs, desires, and concerns that they themselves have. While this may at times produce great deeds and moments of human triumph when the needs of donor and recipient coincide, it can at times backfire.

Take the push to send yoga mats to Haiti in the wake of the 2010 earthquake (Kenny, 2011). Or the import of donated clothing that, through overwhelming the local economy, destroyed the textile industries in most African countries by 50 (Frazer, 2008; Brooks, 2013) to 88 percent (Aboagyewaa-Ntiri & Mintah, 2016). Or the food rations packages air-dropped in to Afghanistan that were the same color and size as cluster bombs and which Afghani children often couldn’t tell apart (Stupat, 2012).

If you didn't speak English, would it be hard to tell the two apart? (Stupart, 2012)

If you didn’t speak English, would it be hard to tell which to pick up? (Stupart, 2012)

Interventions like these that do not take the interests and perspectives of the people they purport to help can do far more harm than good. But such top-down approaches are far too common; in fact, they’re the traditional way of providing aid, from neighborhood to neighborhood and from nation to nation. In top-down interventions, researchers, politicians, humanitarian aid workers, and other authorities treat recipients as passive beneficiaries of aid rather than as active participants in the process; they tell people what they need rather than think to ask. By believing that their own culture is the gold standard and the default from which all others should be compared, many individuals who are part of top-down programs practice ethnocentrism, and by assuming that this cultural superiority grants them the authority to know what’s best for others more than those others themselves, top-down practitioners can also be paternalistic as well. By exploring a bit more of what can go wrong when good intentions go bad, perhaps we can see just why the bottom-up participatory action research we learned about this week is such a revolution.

What does a purchase of TOMS shoes really contribute? (Image from TOMS, 2016)

TOMS (2016d) is one of the progenitors of the buy-one, give-one model of profitable giving.

An example of a top-down program that could do with a bit of participatory action research is TOMS, a company that got its start by offering to donate a pair of shoes to an underprivileged person for every pair purchased. The company’s founder, Blake Mycoskie, got the idea while traveling the world after competing on The Amazing Race (2016). Mycoskie was in Argentina to learn how to play polo when he encountered a woman collecting shoes for the poor and, after accompanying her and seeing the impact she had on the lives of others, decided to return home and start an organization of his own (2016). Shoes for Tomorrow, later Tomorrow’s Shoes, which he shortened to TOMS to fit the name on the label (Mycoskie, 2016), has since grown into a remarkable success. The company has helped more than 35 million people in over 70 countries, donating shoes and glasses, increasing access to clean drinking water, promoting the means for safe childbirth, and even working to prevent bullying (TOMS, 2016e). TOMS has achieved this through its “One for One” philosophy–now trademarked–and the sale of everything from vegan shoes to designer eyeglasses to a special band for the Apple Watch (TOMS, 2016e), sales that contribute to the company’s estimated value of $625 million (Rupp & Banerjee, 2014). Clearly, the company aims to do well by doing good. But the question remains:  Good for whom?

“On its own, the TOMS shoe would probably win neither fashion nor popularity contests,” writes Margrit Talpalaru, a professor of communications in her article on Mycoskie (2014). “An espadrille, really, its canvas feels somewhat coarse to the touch but without reassuring you of its durability. … For all intents and purposes, TOMS is an ordinary, serviceable, forgettable shoe” (p. 168). How can Mycoskie and TOMS make a forgettable shoe remarkable? Make it a part of a story. A customer who buys a pair of TOMS shoes is telling a story with themselves as the protagonist:  If I buy this pair of shoes, then another is donated to someone who needs them. But the tale is not so simple as that.

TOMS' version of an alpargata (2016b)

TOMS’ version of an alpargata (2016b)

TOMS takes the design of an alpargata, the national shoe of Argentina (Talpalaru, 2014), manufactures them in China (Chu, 2013), and sells them largely to Americans while donating a different type of shoe to underprivileged people around the world (Ponte & Richey, 2014). This webbed network of trade is a rather convoluted way to reduce poverty, but poverty is seldom as simple as a lack of shoes. Even in the poorest families Wydick, Katz, and Janet (2014) surveyed–in a study funded by a $225,000 grant from TOMS, no less (Chu, 2013)–99.9 percent of the children already had shoes, and 80 percent had two or three pairs. If TOMS had engaged in participant action design and asked the people in the communities they serve what could be done to help, it seems unlikely that they would answer “more shoes.”

Unlike the crash of the textile industry brought about by donated clothing in many African nations, the surplus shoes have not destroyed the economies of the communities helped by TOMS. Wydick and team (2014), in their TOMS-funded study, found only a modest negative effect of donated shoes on the sales of shoes from local vendors. Ironically, this could be because alpargatas are ill-suited for the types of terrain encountered by their wearers. “Alpargatas aren’t really shoes,” says Gladys Pitsch, a shoe seller in Argentina to journalist Jeff Chu (2013). They wear out too quickly for TOMS’ giveaways to harm the local economy, she says, but “it might have been different if TOMS had given out waterproof shoes or long-lasting ones.”

If you don't see me donate to charity, how do you know I care? (image from TOMS, 2016a)

If you don’t see me donate to charity, how do you know I care? (image from TOMS, 2016a)

TOMS shoes, then, may do more for the person who buys a pair than the person who receives one. All forms of fashion show affiliation, signify identity, and broadcast status to others (Lamrad & Hanlon, 2014). By purchasing and wearing an item of clothing or pair of shoes, a person says “I have money to spare,” but by purchasing and wearing a pair of TOMS, she also says “I care about people who don’t.” This cultural symbolism may be why having a tangible item as proof of a charitable act is much more socially and psychologically rewarding than donating money anonymously online (Hamby, 2016). This visible donation is not a bad thing, of course, but it’s still a story customers tell themselves, and it just might be fiction too. In buying TOMS, a person thinks she has done her part to alleviate poverty (Ponte & Richey, 2014), and she tends to stop there. On average, a person who purchases a buy-one, give-one product such as TOMS will donate less than half the amount to charity that her friend, who didn’t buy such a product, gives, a relationship that holds even after including the purchase price of the item (Krishna, 2011). Not only is less given in total, but the funds may not go where they’re needed. To do the most good, donations of cash are the most effective (Kenny, 2011) in part because they permit the people who need the help to determine how best to use it.

Companies like TOMS are well-intended and have done a great deal of good for many people around the world. But they’ve done well by catering to the needs of their customers, not the recipients of aid. And without input from those recipients, charitable acts may give with one hand–say, a pair of shoes–while taking from another–such as jobs, resources, and income. In contrast to top-down, traditional interventions like these, participatory action research aims to include the people the design is intended to help as equal partners. Participatory action research involves collaboration across all stages of the program, from identifying the issues of concern, designing the study, conducting research to support it, evaluating the results, and implementing the mutually-agreed upon changes (Brydon-Miller, 1997). While bottom-up, cooperative research designs, aid programs, and interventions are the exception rather than the rule, even top-up strategies can implement some of the key concepts of participatory action research.

To its credit, TOMS itself has taken some of this into consideration. From its original buy-one, give-one program for shoes, the company has moved to donate some of its proceeds to other initiatives like providing people with vision care and access to clean water (TOMS, 2016c, 2016d). That said, the details of these programs are far more ambiguous than the one-for-one exchange of shoes. Ponte and Richey (2014) indicate that it’s unclear precisely what or how much the company and its partners actually does beyond donating shoes. In addition, TOMS has responded to critics like me who are skeptical of the economic impact TOMS has on the communities it donates shoes to and the need for employment rather than espadrilles. Three years ago, the company pledged to move a third of its production facilities for the shoes it donates–not the shoes it sells–to the communities who receive them (TOMS, 2016c). It is unknown whether the company has fulfilled on this promise. Even if it has, precisely who benefits remains subject to question:  A TOMS official admits that this move is intended to save money on shipping, distribution, and tariffs as much as anything else (Chu, 2013). Can a company do good despite doing well? Perhaps, but let’s tell a more honest story:  We’re buying shoes for ourselves. If we really want to do more, we have to walk a mile in someone else’s.

 

 

References

Aboagyewaa-Ntiri, J., & Mintah, K. (2016). Challenges and opportunities for the textile industry in Ghana:  A study of the Adinkra textile sub-sector. International Business Research, 9(2), 127-136. doi:10.5539/ibr.v9n2p127

Brooks, A. (2013). Stretching global production networks:  The international second-hand clothing trade. Geoforum, 44, 10-22. doi:10.1016/j.geoforum.2012.06.004

Brydon-Miller, M. (1997). Participatory action research: Psychology and social change. Journal of Social Issues,
53(4), 657-666. doi:10.1111/j.1540-4560.1997.tb02454.x

Chu, J. (2013, June 17). Toms sets out to sell a lifestyle, not just shoes. Fast Company. Retrieved from https://www.fastcompany.com/3012568/blake-mycoskie-toms

Frazer, G. (2008). Used-clothing donations and apparel production in Africa. The Economic Journal, 118(532), 1764-1784. doi:10.1111/j.1468-0297.2008.02190.x

Hamby, A. (2016). One for me, one for you:  Cause-related marketing with buy-one give-one promotions. Psychology & Marketing, 33(9), 692-703. doi:10.1002/mar.20910

Kenny, C. (2011). Haiti doesn’t need your old T-shirt. Foreign Policy, 189, p. 30-31. Retrieved from http://foreignpolicy.com/2011/10/11/haiti-doesnt-need-your-old-t-shirt/

Krishna, A. (2011). Can supporting a cause decrease donations and happiness?:  The cause marketing paradox. Journal of Consumer Psychology, 21(3), 338-345. doi:10.1016/j.jcps.2011.02.001

Lamrad, N., & Hanlon, M. (2014). Untangling fashion for development. Fashion Theory, 18(5), 601-632. doi:10.2752/175174114X14042383562182

Mycoskie, B. (2016). The founder of TOMS on reimagining the company’s mission. Harvard Business Review. Retrieved from https://hbr.org/2016/01/the-founder-of-toms-on-reimagining-the-companys-mission

Ponte, S., & Richey, L.A. (2014). Buying into development?:  Brand Aid forms of cause-related marketing. Third World Quarterly, 35(1), 65-87. doi:10.1080/01436597.2014.868985

Rupp, L., & Banerjee, D. (2014, August 20). Toms sells 50% stake to Bain Capital to fund sales growth. Bloomberg. Retrieved from http://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2014-08-20/toms-sells-50-stake-to-bain-capital

Stupart, R. (2012, February 20). 7 worst international aid ideas. Matador Network. Retrieved from http://matadornetwork.com/change/7-worst-international-aid-ideas/

Talpalaru, M. (2014). Blake Mycoskie, TOMS, and life narratives of conspicuous giving. Biography, 37(1), 168-190. doi:10.1353/bio.2014.0009

TOMS. (2016). Classic alpargatas. Retrieved from http://www.toms.com/women/womens-shoes/classic-alpargatas

—. (2016). Natural metallic burlap women’s classics [Image]. Retrieved from http://www.toms.com/featured-shops/natural-metallic-burlap-womens-classics

— (2016). Production. Retrieved from http://www.toms.com/production

—. (2016). Thoughtful partnerships. Retrieved from http://www.toms.com/thoughtful-partners

—. (2016). Where we give. Retrieved from http://www.toms.com/where-we-give

Van Gogh, V. (1895). Pair of shoes [Painting]. Reprinted by Wikimedia (2012). Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Van-gogh-shoes.jpg

Wydick, B., Katz, E., & Janet, B. (2014). Do in-kind transfers damage local markets?:  The case of TOMS shoe donations in El Salvador. Journal of Development Effectiveness, 6(3). doi:10.1080/19439342.2014.919012

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1 comment

  1. Excellent post! I’ve been reading lately about how corporate giving is a bit of an oxymoron. This type of altruism is generally far more self-serving than beneficial to those it claims to assist. I will admit that I’ve been snagged by the appeal of marketing campaigns that convince me to buy products to support causes, but I’ve learned that I’m better off donating to the American Cancer Society, for example, than buying a hot-pink-whatever if I truly desire to fight breast cancer. Heaps of money have been made by corporations that splash their products with pink, yet offer a but pittance of these profits to breast cancer programs. Breast Cancer Action goes into this phenomenon in detail on their “Think Before You Pink” website (“4 questions before you buy pink,” n.d.).

    As another example of back-firing do-gooderism, I took a “volun-tourism” trip ten years ago. I enjoyed my time as I helped build a cafeteria for impoverished children in a mountain community outside Cusco, Peru, and gave myself a pat on the back for being so compassionate to boot. I later learned that while those with specialized skills–such as surgeons volunteering with Doctors Without Borders–offer true benefits to communities in need, I would have made a greater impact on those village children had I made a financial contribution equivalent to my travel expenses directly to local community advocates who could steer the funds wisely. As Richard Stupart writes:

    “The difficulties of doing good abroad are not only limited to voluntourism programs that involve children. Even activities as banal as painting walls or building houses are fraught with ethical concerns. Does the presence of volunteers really contribute to a community’s wellbeing, or are outsiders simply doing work that could have helped local breadwinners earn a living? Are building materials and technical skills sourced locally, to benefit merchants and artisans in the community, or are they simply shipped in from outside? If your intention as a volunteer is to do good, then these questions matter. They are also questions that, for the most part, a booming voluntourism industry happily ignores” (Stuart, 2013).

    What can I say – one side effect of becoming more educated (and less ethnocentric), is the uncomfortable recognition of one’s own short-comings. Regardless of this consequence, I’m happy to be in the company of thinkers like yourself who draw attention to the problematic outcomes of some good intentions.

    4 questions before you buy pink. Retrieved November 17, 2016, from http://thinkbeforeyoupink.org/resources/before-you-buy/

    Stupart, R. (2013, July 31). Does “voluntourism” do more harm than good? CNN. Retrieved from http://travel.cnn.com/explorations/life/richard-stupart-voluntourism-does-more-harm-good-260269/

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