Key Takeaways: I Was a Humanitarian... and I Regret It

by Izabela Psnik

The video "I Was a Humanitarian and I Regret It" argues that many humanitarian efforts, though well-intentioned, often do more harm than good. It highlights how short-term projects create dependency, overlook local expertise, and prioritise the volunteer’s experience over real impact. 

This isn’t a call to abandon humanitarian work, but to approach it differently—with more ethics and humility.

When Good Intentions Create Harm

Three core issues emerge in the video: dependency, disempowerment, and wasted resources.

At the centre is a familiar mindset: that outsiders know best. Whether it’s students building houses abroad or short-term volunteers distributing aid, the pattern often follows a single logic—I see a problem; I can fix it. But when solutions are introduced without local consultation, communities become passive recipients. Skills are overlooked, economies bypassed, and aid becomes something done to people rather than with them.

The video recounts a moment where a volunteer donated clothes to a woman in front of her neighbours. Though well-meant, it caused humiliation—sending the unintended message that she couldn’t care for herself. Acts like this, repeated over time, erode dignity and reinforce unequal power dynamics. People are positioned as needing rescue, rather than as active agents in their futures.

This is how good intent slides into toxic paternalism. Without collaboration, even well intended actions, can replicate the hierarchies they hope to disrupt. The work may appear productive but often leaves little of lasting value.

Whose Story Are We Telling?

Take, for example, international groups who travel to rural areas to dig wells. Without involving local engineers or understanding the environmental context, these wells are often built using inappropriate materials or flawed designs. As a result, they break within months and are left abandoned. For the volunteers, the experience may feel deeply meaningful—something they remember and share. But for the community, the result is a non-functional structure, wasted resources, and unmet needs.

The crucial question—what would best support this community?—is often overshadowed by a different priority: providing a transformative experience for the outsider. Often, these trips are framed as opportunities for personal growth, prioritising the volunteer’s journey over long-term, locally informed solutions.

The “white saviour” narrative often emerges in this context—not just in the act itself, but in how it’s portrayed. Curated images of smiling children, or captions about “making a difference,” reinforce the idea that the outsider is the central figure. These stories centre visibility, not value. They frame local people as passive recipients, rather than as capable partners with knowledge and agency. 

This critique isn’t about discouraging people from caring or engaging. It’s about recognising that meaningful change isn’t driven by visibility or validation. It’s built through relationships rooted in humility, reciprocity, and respect. Ethical engagement is not a solo act—it’s a symbiotic relationship, where both sides give and receive, teach and learn.

Why Listening Is More Powerful Than Leading

There’s a critical distinction between helping and empowering. Helping often means acting fast: distributing food, building shelters, offering short-term solutions.

Empowerment, on the other hand, is slower and harder to measure. It starts by listening and investing in the capacity that already exists. For example, rather than importing foreign volunteers to complete a task, some models prioritise hiring and training local workers. This keeps money circulating, builds long-term infrastructure, and affirms the value of local expertise.

One such model is Build Change, which trains masons in Haiti and Nepal to construct earthquake-resistant homes. Rather than delivering a single outcome, this approach strengthens skills, creates employment, and leaves behind skills and infrastructure that last.

Empowerment shifts the focus from doing for to working with. It doesn’t assume the outsider knows best. It asks: What are you already doing? How can we support your vision?

Choosing Better Models

Not all humanitarian organisations operate ethically. Some centre local leadership, commit to long-term outcomes, and engage communities as partners. Others—often with good intentions—end up reinforcing dependency, funnelling resources into volunteer experiences, or prioritising how their work looks over how it functions.

The video highlights a striking example: sending a group of volunteers abroad can cost up to $30,000—money that could instead build classrooms, fund teacher salaries, or support community-led infrastructure. Most funds end up supporting the volunteer’s experience more than the community’s needs.

Ethical models focus on sustainability and shared ownership, building structures that support community autonomy and lasting resilience.

One example is Sseko Designs, a Uganda-based social enterprise that partners with local women to produce leather goods and reinvests profits into scholarships. Rather than relying on outside donations, it builds lasting income and educational opportunities. 

Careful evaluation helps protect communities from harm and directs energy toward models that deliver real, lasting change.

Humanitarian work can be meaningful—but meaning alone isn’t enough. Personal growth isn’t inherently wrong, but it shouldn’t be the primary outcome. The true goal is lasting, community-led change.

Ethical engagement requires more listening, more humility, and a willingness to question inherited frameworks. It may not be as visible or dramatic—but it is more grounded, more mutual, and ultimately more respectful.

Empowerment doesn’t come wrapped in neat images or simple narratives. It builds dignity, reciprocity, and resilience—foundations that endure long after the volunteers have left.

Watch original video below: