How Not to Volunteer Abroad: An Interview with Author Pippa Biddle

In her new book, “Ours to Explore: Privilege, Power, and the Paradox of Voluntourism,” Pippa Biddle asks travelers and volunteers to look at the ways their actions affect the global community.

Philippa (Pippa) Biddle is the author of “Ours to Explore: Privilege, Power, and The Paradox of Voluntourism.” Her freelance work has been published by Guernica, The Atlantic, Wired, BBC Travel, AMC Outdoors, Maine magazine and more. You can preorder “Ours to Explore” here. 

Biddle sat down with CATALYST Sarah Leidich to discuss her latest book and offer her take on voluntourism.

Q: What inspired you to write this book? 

A: For me, so much of working on the book was trying to call people into a conversation and call out the industry and not the individual. With voluntourism, so much of the critique has been focused on specific people. 

It actually wasn’t my idea. I wrote a piece called “The Problems of the White Girls” that went viral and a literary agent reached out who suggested that there was a book in it. I spent about a year working with them on a proposal before I realized the book they wanted me to write was not the book I was interested in writing. They really wanted me to write a how-to-do-it-better, and I didn’t want anyone to do it. So why would I take an entire book to do that? But the process of working with them really showed me that there was a book in this—that there was enough material, enough research, enough interest to have a book. 

Q: Before we talk about avoiding it or preventing it, can you define contemporary colonialism? How does it function today?

A: To me, contemporary colonialism is the continuation of colonial ideologies and empires into today. The reason that I use the phrase “contemporary colonialism” as opposed to neocolonialism is because oftentimes, the way we think about colonialism today is informed by and yet somehow held separate from the colonialism of the past and empire-building of the past, specifically empire-building done by Western European and North American powers. In North America, primarily the United States. To me, that differentiation between past and present is completely false. 

It actually allows us to de-implicate ourselves, and by ourselves I mean people who are residents of powerful nations, beneficiaries of power dynamics, and travelers and voluntourists. Contemporary colonialism is simply a different phrase that refers to colonialism that I hope better amplifies the fact that there is that unbroken thread between past colonialism and present colonialism—it’s just modified itself for the present-day environment. 

Q: Is it possible for volunteers to travel abroad without engaging in contemporary colonialism? 

A: I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to travel anywhere without engaging in contemporary colonialism, but engaging with something isn’t in and of itself necessarily problematic. However, you have to recognize it to begin to address the problems with it when it is problematic. Just the fact that some people can travel for leisure and some cannot is an engagement with contemporary colonialism. The fact that I can, pre-pandemic and probably still right now, go to Tanzania and arrive and get a tourist visa for probably $100 and be in the door, but someone from Tanzania cannot reciprocate that action in the United States, is an example of contemporary colonialism, regardless of whether I’m going there to be a volunteer or go on a safari. 

Q: What steps can travelers, especially privileged travelers, take to avoid acts that perpetuate the harmful side effects of travel? 

A: I think that one of the biggest things we need to ask ourselves before booking a trip somewhere is “why are we going there?” I think a lot of travelers don’t take that moment to ask themselves “why do I need to go to this place?” And once they answer that question, to make decisions that fulfill their “why” in the most respectful way possible, which sometimes means not going. For example, if I were to say I really want to go to Ecuador because I’m really fascinated by Ecuadorian cuisine, then if I were to go to Ecuador, I should be focused on eating at restaurants that are owned and run and staffed by Ecuadorians. This sounds like an obvious thing, but most tourists don’t do that extra step. They go somewhere and eat at the places that are easy, that have the menu in English, that the resort has on their short list. The resort is probably foreign-owned, so the restaurants are probably owned by people associated with the resort. 

The whole idea that travel should be something leisurely is really off-base. Travel is not a leisure activity. Travel is an activity that demands conscious engagement and thoughtful consideration, and as long as we treat it as something that is in the same realm as a relaxing day on the beach in your hometown—if you happen to live by the beach—we’re going to be doing it in ways that are disrespectful. 

Q: You write about the tension between communities sometimes believing that voluntourists and missionaries are actually doing good work and then the harmful reality of this kind of travel, volunteering and missionary work. Is there a way to reconcile the relationship between intention, perception and outcome?

A: In the book I use the term “pathological altruism.” Pathological altruism really speaks to this tension, because it is the inability to see that something you are doing with the intention of the impact being positive is having a negative impact, and through that inability to see it, insisting on continuing to do it regardless. I think that the intention to do good is a very good core intention and stripping back to that core intention is a really positive thing, but the idea that intention should be immediately followed by action is misguided. 

I used to work for the Jane Goodall Institute doing educational programming, and one of the things that we brought into classrooms a lot was a thing we called the “Knowledge-Compassion-Action Cycle.” The Knowledge-Compassion-Action Cycle is basically the idea that when we learn about something, we begin to care about it, and once we care about it, we are able to act in the best possible way, and through action you will learn more knowledge. I think a lot of people are skipping that middle part of true, deep knowledge and care. For example, with children in orphanages, if people who chose to volunteer in an orphanage cared about child welfare, and they’re jumping to the idea of volunteering at orphanage, that shows me that they haven’t gone through the knowledge procession and they haven’t gone through the compassion process, because there is no way you go from child welfare to orphanage if you’ve actually gone through that process. It’s trying to integrate more time and education and slowness into what we care about so that we have that time for knowledge and compassion to develop before we choose to take action. 

Q: So if knowledge is developed and compassion is developed, and travelers are moving through the communities with intent, are there changes to the voluntourism industry you would like to see? 

A: Something that makes me nervous about suggesting changes to the voluntourism industry is that it could be misconstrued as me saying that if the industry were to make those changes, it would be OK. That is not what I’m saying. However, there are things that can be done to mitigate the harm as we slowly dismantle voluntourism. The first thing, hands down, is to stop working with kids. Unfortunately, a lot of the trip providers that have stopped working with orphanages have simply pivoted and now take volunteers to work with youth groups, so the only thing that’s changed is that it’s not a residential environment, but so many of the same issues still exist. Honestly, if voluntourism stops working with kids, a fair amount of the market for voluntourism will dry up because the number one thing people want to do on these trips is work with kids. If that is not an option, the industry will shrink. 

Parallel to that, I am adamant that prospective voluntourists deeply engage in the education around what they’re taking part in. One of the things I write about in the book is the “EdGE” platform by Omprakash, which is a nonprofit. EdGE is their learning platform, and EdGE is not perfect and Omprakash is not perfect, and Willy Oppenheim, the founder, is the first to admit that. But it provides trip providers and educational institutions that are facilitating voluntourism, as well as individual travelers that are going on their own, with a curriculum that attempts to educate them on some issues like White privilege and the White savior complex prior to them getting on the ground, so they go through the learning curve that I had years after going before they even go. Does that mean they will not be part of the White savior complex and White privilege? No, but it is a really important step. 

Q: How would you encourage people who are looking to be philanthropic or looking to help? What would you say to them? 

A: Think global, act local. Learn about global issues, engage in global conversations, learn about places, travel as a tourist who is respectful and thoughtful, but you have to remember that even the opportunity to travel is a privilege. If we have this idea that the only way to help is by going somewhere else, we are discounting billions of people on this planet who simply don’t have access to that opportunity. So think global, and then when you choose to act, look locally. 


Sarah Leidich

Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

Sarah is currently an English and Film major at Barnard College of Columbia University. Sarah is inspired by global art in every form, and hopes to explore the intersection of activism, art, and storytelling through her writing. 

Evo Morales Returns in Triumph to Bolivia, Ending a Year in Exile

One year after he stepped down amid a contested election, the popular left-wing leader is back. Will he be content with his supporters’ love, or will he seek power as well?

Evo Morales waving the Wiphala, a symbol for South America’s Indigenous people. Brasil de Fato. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

Exiled leaders rarely return so triumphantly. Evo Morales, president of Bolivia for 14 years before fleeing the country in November 2019, greeted a jubilant crowd when he crossed the border from Argentina and trekked to his home province of Chapare. Many expected a more forceful return, perhaps a march to the seat of government in La Paz. Rather, Morales traveled to where he started his political career at the precise moment when that career seems set to either end or begin again. 

If Morales plans to kick-start a new phase in his political career, he reenters in a much better position than when he started. Born to a poor family in the Orinoca region in 1959, his family moved with countless other families from the highland altiplanos to work on lowland coca farms, which provided poor Bolivians the best shot at a livable wage. The young Evo became a union leader, fiercely advocating for the rights of farmers when the United States’ war on drugs demanded the Bolivian government slash its supply of coca, its most profitable crop. In Bolivia, people chew on it or brew tea, but one ton of leaves can be refined into two pounds of cocaine base paste. 

A farmer pruning coca. Erik Cleves Kristensen. CC BY 2.0.

Morales’ experiences there fostered a brand of politics staunchly devoted to the poor and Indigenous communities through the institution of socialism. He joined and soon transformed the Movement for Socialism party (MAS) and became a one-term congressman. After leading violent street altercations that forced two presidents to resign, his ambitions expanded to the national realm. In 2006, the Bolivian people voted him in as president, beginning a 14-year-long tenure which would prove revolutionary.

For one, he was the first Indigenous president since the country’s independence in 1825. In a nation that is 42% Indigenous, this seems strange, but centuries of colonization and racism led to a society of haves and have-nots. An ethnic Aymara, Morales expanded MAS’s appeal to all Indigenous people, chafing many Whites and Mestizos who supported MAS in far fewer numbers. Some Indigenous communities found Morales’ embrace of Indigenous peoples hollow; he allowed drilling in forest reserves and expanded the amount of land settlers could clear. 

Man without a plan. Alain Bachellier. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0. 

Most of all, however, he presided over what many view as an economic miracle. Morales’ government reduced by two-thirds the amount of people living on less than $1.90 a day, the World Bank’s definition of extreme poverty. The high price of petroleum, another of Bolivia’s largest exports, allowed his administration to invest heavily in innovation and modernization. The widespread prosperity led many to ignore Morales’ authoritarian streak. He would often jail critics and journalists while piling lawsuits on his political rivals.

But when Morales ran for a fourth term against constitutional term limits, opponents found it unforgivable. A pause in vote-counting led many to believe he planned to rig the election, so thousands stormed the streets to protest the election results. Clashes broke out between pro- and anti-Morales protesters; 36 people died amid the violence. Once the military “recommended” Morales step down, he boarded a plane to Mexico and left Bolivia in the hands of little-known senator Jeanine Anez. 

She was a right-wing politician with exactly the opposite views of Morales. Where he proudly represented Indigenous peoples, Anez called them “savages.” (In his triumphant return, Morales sarcastically quipped, “The Bolivian right and the global right should know: the savages are back in government.”) Anez presided over an economic slump due to political unrest and COVID-19. She governed for 11 months before the electorate put in office Morales’ own protege Luis Arce.

Morales’ protege Luis Arce. Casa de América. CC By-NC-ND 2.0.

A bland, uncharismatic technocrat, Arce won broad appeal precisely because he was Morales’ choice. He engineered the economy during Morales’ presidency, so he can take credit for much of Bolivia’s prosperity. His support from the former president may prove both a blessing and a curse, however. He will struggle to distance himself from a controversial figure who still holds strong sway over MAS. His primary responsibility will be to maintain distance from Morales to the greatest extent possible.

For the time being, however, Morales will enjoy his warm welcome home. Crowds gleefully waved the Wiphala, a colorful checkered flag representing Indigenous peoples. Supporters dressed in their finest, most colorful Indigenous attire to celebrate his homecoming. Luis Arce neither met him in Chapare nor sent him a word of greeting. So far they hold no communication. For the sake of Bolivia’s democracy, many hope it will stay that way. 


Michael McCarthy

Michael is an undergraduate student at Haverford College, dodging the pandemic by taking a gap year. He writes in a variety of genres, and his time in high school debate renders political writing an inevitable fascination. Writing at Catalyst and the Bi-Co News, a student-run newspaper, provides an outlet for this passion. In the future, he intends to keep writing in mediums both informative and creative.