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Why now is the time to end aid agency child sponsorship schemes

Why now is the time to end aid agency child sponsorship schemes

International child sponsorship programmes perpetuate racist and paternalistic thinking. Any benefit they have for families and communities must be weighed against the harm they do and the invidious power relations they reinforce.

NGOs who still use vulnerable children to raise money need to wean themselves off this model immediately or be shunned. Just tweaking the child sponsorship model, which some leading charities are now doing, isn’t good enough.

Leaders across the aid sector are engaging in discussions like never before to end racist and paternalistic practices. Business models that smack of colonialism or “white saviour” mentalities are losing favour to those that shift more power to the Global South.

Despite these shifts, child sponsorship schemes are still popular today, and many INGOs are reluctant to give up these multi-million-dollar marketing campaigns for fear of losing income. In 2019, World Vision globally reported sponsoring 3.4 million children, through its overall annual spending of around $2.1 billion, whilePlan International raised approximately $436 million directly from sponsorship donations, 40 percent of its income in 2020. Another international NGO, Compassion, sponsored 1.9 million children last year, with $755 million of its annual income raised through this programme.

Having worked in the aid sector as a senior director for over 20 years, I both directly managed and came in close contact with child sponsorship programmes. In all my experiences, conversations centred on caseloads, cutting administrative costs, and the quality of communications from the child. Never did we discuss the ways these programmes perpetuate a white saviour mentality, are paternalistic, and commodify children – all while serving to make those in the Global North feel good about themselves by providing a relatively inexpensive way to “make a difference”.

Millions of well-intentioned individuals who sponsor children are unaware that child sponsorship feeds into asymmetrical power relations of development, wherein “blackness embodies poverty and ignorance and whiteness signals wealth, knowledge, and the bringer of aid”. Many are kept out of the knowledge loop by being continually fed with good news stories by the agencies who run the programmes.

This moment of re-imagining aid should provide the opportunity for an honest and principled re-evaluation of child sponsorship, which remains a fundraising jewel due to its reliability in achieving regular private giving.

Proponents of child sponsorship note the person-to-person aspect can create a genuine sense of shared humanity. And I have personally seen many community projects that have benefited thousands of children through sponsorship funds used to build schools, provide educational materials, train pre-school teachers, and equip community health workers. I have even met with former sponsored children who have formed alumni to now help others.

A study commissioned by Plan International through RMIT University showed child sponsorship benefits included higher likelihood of birth registrations, school attendance, access to clean water, and general health and social well-being. While all this is good news, it doesn’t outweigh the many drawbacks to these programmes.

Child sponsorship advertisements promise a one-to-one connection between donor and child as a drawcard to attract money. Save the Children tells us child sponsorship is a “wonderful way to spread joy through a family including our own”, while ChildFund encourages us to be part of the sponsored child’s life. All promote individual letter-writing, with many allowing visits and gifts to be sent to children.

Marketing techniques much like those found on online shopping sites or dating apps call up thousands of images of children with a swipe of the screen. The child’s photo and a short story of a life lived in poverty, coupled with promises that our contributions will help to sustainably benefit the child’s entire community, are persuasive.

Whether I hover my mouse over Compassion’s extensive portfolio with “Choose Me” emblazoned across the child’s chest or just punch in my credit card number to get more information of the child once paid up, at its core, child sponsorship programmes are remarkably alike. They offer the personal: exchanges of letters, photos, and a long-term connection that allows the sponsor an intimate view into a child’s life as their parents struggle to provide for them.

Organisations vow that the dignity of each child is assured, yet these popular programmes continue to promote an age-old stereotyped North-South divide.