Jennifer Rubenstein warns that for humanitarian international nongovernmental organizations (INGOs), aiming at moral purity is dangerous, and that hoping to separate humanitarian work from political effects is misguided. As she puts it, the “political ethics offered in this book is messy and pragmatic” (p. 223). Rubenstein provides donors and INGOs with guidance for engaging in the difficult task of thoughtful, ethical reasoning in conditions where moral compromise is necessary.
What is novel about her project, however, is not the recognition that humanitarian workers face ethical challenges. Scholars such as Fiona Terry explore the paradoxes that humanitarian organizations face (Condemned to Repeat? The Paradox of Humanitarian Action, 2002). What Rubenstein contributes is the fascinating claim that ethical reasoning in humanitarian work requires looking beyond humanitarian norms to consider norms of democracy, justice, and political equality. INGOs like Oxfam or Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) need to be evaluated not only in terms of their responsibilities as Samaritans aiming to do good, but also in terms of the responsibilities that come with the power they wield when fulfilling functions that make them more like states: providing basic services, constructing shared meaning, and crafting international rules. She argues that the ethics that ought to guide humanitarian INGOs and their donors needs to be a political ethics that guards against the abuse of power.
Navigating the ethical predicaments of humanitarian work may be messy, but Rubenstein’s argument is far from messy, even as she combines analytical political theory and empirical field work based on semistructured interviews and participant observation. She defends the need for “thinking in both registers” (p. 27). Almost every chapter uses empirical cases (such as MSF’s work in the Rwandan refugee camps in Zaire and the Enough Project’s campaign to end the trade in conflict minerals). These examples help to illustrate the weaknesses of alternative ethical frameworks and to demonstrate how her political ethics can better navigate the predicaments of humanitarian work. Cases analyzed through a range of theoretical frameworks in carefully organized chapters are perfect for assignments to upper-level undergraduates.
To fully appreciate the creative and theoretically sophisticated argument one does need to read the whole book. The main claim unfolds in three central components. First, Rubenstein contends that we ought to broaden our understanding of INGO activities to recognize that they are “sometimes somewhat governmental” (p. 55; emphasis in the original, here and following). They play conventional governmental roles (such as providing basic services) as well as global governance roles (such as when advocacy campaigns “causally influence the rules and practices of coercive global institutions” like the World Bank [p. 67]). Focusing only on humanitarian norms misses the dangers that come with exerting power. INGOs, for example, have “the power to shape widely shared meanings” when making the seemingly apolitical decision about what counts as an emergency (p. 71). Rubenstein does not conclude that humanitarian norms are irrelevant but rather cautions against applying “humanitarian norms unconstrained” (p. 220).
The second part of the author’s argument is that once one acknowledges that INGOs exert power with political effects, one can better understand four ethical predicaments. The predicament of spattered hands occurs when INGOs are knowingly implicated in unethical acts because others exploit their actions. MSF must decide whether to stay if its urgent medical aid is also prolonging a conflict. Discounting the idea that there is a humanitarian duty irrespective of consequences (p. 93), Rubenstein argues that INGOs ought to draw on democratic norms. If they are serving conventional governmental roles, then they need to publically justify their choice of leaving or staying to aid recipients. In the quandary of second best, Rubenstein cautions INGOs to consider whether they are the best actor for providing a service in order to avoid abusing their power by crowding out local initiatives. Here, a relevant norm is political equality. Rather than expecting Oxfam to serve as an equal partner, respecting the political equality of actors requires, in some cases, “step[ping] back and support[ing] others as advocates” (p. 119). Other predicaments include cost-effectiveness conundrums that arise as INGOs make decisions about which crisis to fund and moral motivation trade-offs, where INGOs like Save the Children face the challenge of fund-raising without exploiting images of those they aim to empower.
The third, subtler, part of Rubenstein’s argument is that navigating these predicaments requires INGOs and donors to cultivate the capabilities for careful ethical judgment. This part of her argument provides a nice balance to her emphasis on addressing the effects of INGOs on aid recipients. If humanitarian workers see themselves as quick-acting Samaritans, this can lead to the belief that humanitarianism operates “in the register of political reflex” excusing behavior, rather than requiring “considered political judgment” (p. 164). The author argues that INGOs can cultivate a capacity for judgment by establishing protocols that require deliberation and reason giving. I am left wondering how the necessary judgment might be cultivated in donors.
Between Samaritans and States does not promise a definitive conclusion about what the world would look like if INGOs were to employ Rubenstein’s political ethics, but she does discuss a range of implications of her argument. Since there is no “one-size-fits-all set of rules or principles for guiding INGO decision-making” (p. 22), donors ought to focus more on “asking INGOs to justify and explain specific decisions after the fact, than on demanding that they adhere to strict rules or principles determined in advance” (p. 217). In addition, greater attention to the abuse of power means that INGOs should withdraw more frequently and should spend more time supporting other actors (pp. 113, 141). The lessons for political theorists emerge as she complicates conventional understandings of the norms of democracy, justice, and equality. For example, she questions the assumption that equality means equal partnership, pointing out how that can ignore unequal power differentials that undermine political equality understood as having the “chance to help shape outcomes” (p. 127). She gathers these different implications together in the image of mapping a terrain (the terrain of humanitarian work). This organizing analogy is not as clear or persuasive as her other provocative analogies (such as comparing donating to INGOs with donating to a political campaign in a different district). I kept having to remind myself that what she had in mind was a “large, open-source, collectively generated map” (p. 25) like that created by the Kenyan organization Ushahidi. It did not always seem clear why this map analogy was necessary.
One nice element of the book is that it leaves one curious about the potential for broader applications of her political ethics for other types of organizations. Despite aiming to break down a sharp distinction between INGOs and states, Rubenstein seems instead to draw a sharp distinction between humanitarian INGOs and other INGOs (such as when she writes that “humanitarian INGOs’ decisions about resource use, but not those of arts organizations, are somewhat governmental,” p. 165). Other associations, such as sports organizations, professional groups, and religious organizations, could benefit from greater attention to the ethical dimensions of political power that she raises.
Those who apply Rubenstein’s creative political ethics need to remember that it begins with the tough recognition that even with the best intentions (such as humanitarian ones), it can be dangerous to aim at moral purity. Her book offers a powerful lesson in this regard.
