Article
Comment
Development
5 min read

Don't patronise: what the R20 means for development

The R20 meeting at the G20 global summit sheds light on development. Christopher Wadibia makes the case for a change in perception.

Chris Wadibia is an academic advising on faith-based challenges. His research includes political Pentecostalism, global Christianity, and development. 

Swami Govinda Dev Giri Maharaj, Dr. Valeria Martano, and Archbishop Henry Ndukuba, are greeted by R20 founder Yahya Cholil Staquf.
G20religion.org

God is dead,' wrote Friedrich Nietzsche in 1882, in an effort to argue that every European imagination, community, and enterprise developed by faith in the Christian God would inevitably degenerate relative to Europe's dwindling commitment to belief in the former. Nietzsche's argument preceded the once popular secularisation thesis. The view that societies would increasingly adopt non-religious values and institutions as they modernise influenced global development discourse in the 20th century following World War II.   

However, in 2023, a year that marks more than 140 years since Nietzsche first popularised the atheistical three-word phrase ‘God is dead’, anyone familiar with the mechanics and forces driving the modern global development project would point out that faith-aligned actors play a pivotal, and even in some cases, unrivalled role. These actors promote growth, progress, and development globally, especially in the Global South.  

Albeit, Nietzsche once argued that Europe's declining belief in the Christian God signaled God's death, the fact that at least 85% of the world's over eight billion people claim some form of faith. Couple that with the reality that faith actors deliver the majority of local development services in many regions across the globe, and the suggestions is that God has risen from the grave and traded European burial clothes for globalised vocational attire. Far from being dead, God is alive and more engaged in developing the earth than ever before.  

Aside from state and private-sector investment, since the second half of the 20th century, the faith sector, comprised of thousands of actors, has become increasingly responsible for developing the modern world. A recent study on faith-aligned impact investment, completed by researchers at Oxford University's Said Business School, showed that four of the world's most influential religious groups (Christianity, Islam, Dharmic, and Judaism) collectively hold at least $5 trillion in net assets. The study linked this $5 trillion in assets to faith-aligned investment in addressing social and climate-oriented challenges globally.  

The study, which analysed over 360 distinctive organisations, attributed over $260 billion to Christian-aligned capital. Given the difficulty of securing accurate data on the total assets and capital held by the world's many thousands of churches and Christian  organisations, it should be acknowledged that this estimate sits far below the real net assets in Christendom that have been invested into global development. However, a key takeaway from this study is that Christian-aligned capital remains a game-changing force in the global development sector. After all, those organisations serve the approximately 2.4bn Christians alive today.  

  

'The R20's mission was grand but straightforward: fill the gap in world leadership that stresses politics and economics rather than faith and spirituality.'

In November 2022, two weeks before the G20 summit in Bali which brought together the leaders of the 20 countries with the world's biggest economies, another gathering took place in Indonesia that attracted less publicity. For the first time ever, the R20 (the G20 Religious Forum) united leaders from the major religions of the G20 countries whose heads of state would flock to Bali a few weeks later. The R20's mission was grand but straightforward: fill the gap in world leadership that stresses politics and economics rather than faith and spirituality as resources to provide solutions to pressing global challenges.  

One of the R20's more high profile speakers was Archbishop Henry Ndukuba, who currently serves as Anglican Primate for the Church of Nigeria. In his speech, Ndukuba cited the violent persecution of Christians and liberal Muslims in the majority Muslim region of Northern Nigeria. The R20's goal of elevating faith and spirituality in the hierarchy of resources that can be enlisted to engage with global issues should be viewed as noble. However, in practice, the concept of the world's major faith communities petitioning global peace and development stakeholders to be recognised as legitimate contributors to the sacred project of redeeming the brokenness of the world reeks of obsequious servility.  

Moreover, this unequal power relation fatefully overlooks the substantial contributions to peace and development made every day across the world by faith actors. Many of the world's major faith traditions share the vision of developing the world into a place devoid of disease, poverty, and suffering. The global faith and spirituality sector is truly not without its imperfections, but for centuries this multi-faith comity has invested immense resources into making earth look more like heaven. It does so by leveraging faith as a conduit to gather assets that aid in the deeply holy process of chiseling away at the degenerative evils and satanic forces plaguing the world until all that remains is the latter's Edenic base.  

The time has come for the world's faith actors to stop begging secular state actors to recognise them as stakeholders committed to promoting global peace and development. Getting on with the heavenly work of building God's cosmos, in anticipation of the New Creation, requires faith that God will provide the right people, ideas, and resources and that secular state actors should be viewed as partners instead of patrons in this divine enterprise.  

'The work we do in the present, then, gains its full significance from the eventual design in which it is meant to belong.'

N.T. Wright

Secular state actors should better understand what is driving those faith actors and the desire to balance the partnership. In his influential book Surprised by Hope, NT Wright argues that continuities will exist between Christian work completed in service to God in the present age and the eternal life that God's people will enjoy in the New Creation. Wright reasons,

'The work we do in the present, then, gains its full significance from the eventual design in which it is meant to belong. Applied to the mission of the church, this means that we must work in the present for the advance signs of that eventual state of affairs when God is ‘all in all’, when his kingdom has come and his will is done ‘on earth as in heaven’.' 

Every day a faith actor funds a school, hospital, or social development project somewhere in the world. They see these projects function in God's ongoing programme of redeeming the world by means of the intellects and imaginations of themselves and those who benefit. In their eyes, all are made in God's own image. In a world where they see sin's footprints manifest by way of suffering, violence, and destruction, every actor inspired by the faith in their heart to challenge the existence of the former should recognise that the impulse to build a better world is a nudge from heaven foreshadowing the New Eden to come. 

Article
Assisted dying
Care
Comment
Death & life
Suffering
5 min read

Why end of life agony is not a good reason to allow death on demand

Assisted dying and the unintended consequences of compassion.

Graham is the Director of the Centre for Cultural Witness and a former Bishop of Kensington.

A open hand hold a pill.
Towfiqu Barbhuiya on Unsplash.

Those advocating Assisted Dying really have only one strong argument on their side – the argument from compassion. People who have seen relatives dying in extreme pain and discomfort understandably want to avoid that scenario. Surely the best way is to allow assisted dying as an early way out for such people to avoid the agony that such a death involves?  

Now it’s a powerful argument. To be honest I can’t say what I would feel if I faced such a death, or if I had to watch a loved one go through such an ordeal. All the same, there are good reasons to hold back from legalising assisted dying even in the face of distress at the prospect of enduring or having to watch a painful and agonising death.  

In any legislation, you have to bear in mind unintended consequences. A law may benefit one particular group, but have knock-on effects for another group, or wider social implications that are profoundly harmful. Few laws benefit everyone, so lawmakers have to make difficult decisions balancing the rights and benefits of different groups of people. 

It feels odd to be citing percentages and numbers faced with something so elemental and personal and death and suffering, but it is estimated that around two per cent of us will die in extreme pain and discomfort. Add in the 'safeguards' this bill proposes (a person must be suffering from a terminal disease with fewer than six months to live, capable of making such a decision, with two doctors and a judge to approve it) and the number of people this directly affects becomes really quite small. Much as we all sympathise and feel the force of stories of agonising suffering - and of course, every individual matters - to put it bluntly, is it right to entertain the knock-on effects on other groups in society and to make such a fundamental shift in our moral landscape, for the sake of the small number of us who will face this dreadful prospect? Reading the personal stories of those who have endured extreme pain as they approached death, or those who have to watch over ones do so is heart-rending - yet are they enough on their own to sanction a change to the law? 

Much has been made of the subtle pressure put upon elderly or disabled people to end it all, to stop being a burden on others. I have argued elsewhere on Seen and Unseen that that numerous elderly people will feel a moral obligation to safeguard the family inheritance by choosing an early death rather than spend the family fortune on end of life care, or turning their kids into carers for their elderly parents. Individual choice for those who face end of life pain unintentionally  lands an unenviable and unfair choice on many more vulnerable people in our society. Giles Fraser describes the indirect pressure well: 

“You can say “think of the children” with the tiniest inflection of the voice, make the subtlest of reference to money worries. We communicate with each other, often most powerfully, through almost imperceptible gestures of body language and facial expression. No legal safeguard on earth can detect such subliminal messaging.” 

There is also plenty of testimony that suggests that even with constant pain, life is still worth living. Michelle Anna-Moffatt writes movingly  of her brush with assisted suicide and why she pulled back from it, despite living life in constant pain.  

Once we have blurred the line between a carer offering a drink to relieve thirst and effectively killing them, a moral line has been crossed that should make us shudder. 

Despite the safeguards mentioned above, the move towards death on the NHS is bound to lead to a slippery slope – extending the right to die to wider groups with lesser obvious needs. As I wrote in The Times recently, given the grounds on which the case for change is being made – the priority of individual choice – there are no logical grounds for denying the right to die of anyone who chooses that option, regardless of their reasons. If a teenager going through a bout of depression, or a homeless person who cannot see a way out of their situation chooses to end it all, and their choice is absolute, on what grounds could we stop them? Once we have based our ethics on this territory, the slippery slope is not just likely, it is inevitable.  

Then there is the radical shift to our moral landscape. A disabled campaigner argues that asking for someone to help her to die “is no different for me than asking my caregiver to help me on the toilet, or to give me a shower, or a drink, or to help me to eat.” Sorry - but it is different, and we know it. Once we have blurred the line between a carer offering a drink to relieve thirst and effectively killing them, a moral line has been crossed that should make us shudder.  

In Canada, many doctors refuse, or don’t have time to administer the fatal dose so companies have sprung up, offering ‘medical professionals’ to come round with the syringe to finish you off. In other words, companies make money out of killing people. It is the commodification of death. When we have got to that point, you know we have wandered from the path somewhere.  

You would have to be stony-hearted indeed not to feel the force of the argument to avoid pain-filled deaths. Yet is a change to benefit such people worth the radical shift of moral value, the knock-on effects on vulnerable people who will come under pressure to die before their time, the move towards death on demand?  

Surely there are better ways to approach this? Doctors can decide to cease treatment to enable a natural death to take its course, or increase painkillers that will may hasten death - that is humane and falls on the right side of the line of treatment as it is done primarily to relieve pain, not to kill. Christian faith does not argue that life is to be preserved at any cost – our belief in martyrdom gives the lie to that. More importantly, a renewed effort to invest in palliative care and improved anaesthetics will surely reduce such deaths in the longer term. These approaches are surely much wiser and less impactful on the large numbers of vulnerable people in our society than the drastic step of legalising killing on the NHS.