The Missionary Position

The New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof who has made Africa his beat, lectures poor Congolese about their leisure time.

Nicholas Kristof in a still from one of " New York Times Columnist Nicholas D. Kristof Answers Viewers' Questions" Youtube clips.

Nicholas Kristof’s opinion columns tend to follow a familiar template. He identifies what he sees as a problem in an African country—often the DRC, Sudan, or somewhere in West Africa—then “thinks aloud” to arrive at a supposed hard truth that others are too polite or “politically correct” to voice. These truths, he suggests, are ignored by well-meaning Western critics (and, implicitly, his own detractors). He then concludes with a kind of 19th-century moralism as the solution.

His latest column, Moonshine or the Kids,” is no exception. This time, his focus is on Congolese parents who struggle to pay school fees for their children, yet own inexpensive cellphones and occasionally drink alcohol.

The argument is laid out plainly in the op-ed’s introduction:

There’s an ugly secret of global poverty, one rarely acknowledged by aid groups or U.N. reports. It’s a blunt truth that is politically incorrect, heartbreaking, frustrating and ubiquitous: It’s that if the poorest families spent as much money educating their children as they do on wine, cigarettes and prostitutes, their children’s prospects would be transformed. Much suffering is caused not only by low incomes, but also by shortsighted private spending decisions by heads of households.

“Ugly secret,” “rarely acknowledged,” “a blunt, politically incorrect truth.” Later, he frames his intervention as an effort to “look unflinchingly at uncomfortable truths.” Those who, in his telling, refuse to confront these supposed moral failings of Africans include “aid groups,” “U.N. reports,” and, further down, what he calls “well-meaning humanitarians.”

Of course, Kristof foregrounds a Congolese child — it resonates with American readers, as he has acknowledged elsewhere. He then confronts the child’s parents and neighbors: “I asked Mr. Obamza why he prioritizes alcohol over educating his kids. He looked pained.”

He then brings up the economists Abhijit Banerjee and Esther Duflo’s work – they’re all the rage these days – to endorse his 19th-century views in which Westerners, and particularly white Westerners, decide what’s good for poor, third-world, mostly black, particularly black people, and then babbles on about “microsavings.”  On this, we should take his word, because he saw it work:

Microsavings programs, organized by CARE and other organizations, work to turn a consumption culture into a savings culture. The programs often keep household savings in the women’s names, to give mothers more say in spending decisions, and I’ve seen them work in Africa, Latin America and Asia.

At this point, I was exhausted from reading this.  The journalist Siddhartha Mitter summed up the whole mess in an email:

The Great White Savior really outdid himself with this one. A blame-the-poor classic with particularly overt Calvinist moral messaging, even less appreciation than usual for colonial legacy, public finance and global economics, and that condescending Kristof brand of Savior Feminism Lite that verges on misandry.

Further Reading