SFU students respond to whether educated North Americans should be able to suggest change in third world countries. This comes into light after SFU professor Morten Jerven’s book on research in African statistics, Poor Numbers, caused him to be blacklisted from two international conferences, and accused of being a “hired gun” of the West with a hidden agenda to discredit African officials.

Lauren Kyle, SFU student

Jerven’s main argument is that African economic statistics are not reliable, and can misinform the delegation of funding for countries in need. In his quest to re-examine the methods used in statistics, he suggests more universal data collection techniques. He has opened up a new conversation across multiple disciplines in academia: do we have the right to stick our noses into other countries and claim their practices to be insufficient? I don’t think we do.

As a high school student, I participated in many activist endeavours and even a major protest in downtown Vancouver collecting petitions to stop the practice of FGM (female genital mutilation) in third world countries. At the time, it seemed a heroic, thrilling, and controversial topic. Now, as a social science student, I cringe at the attitude and approach behind that rally. Do I have the right as a naive student to label as immoral a cultural practice that has been continuing for years?

Although it is important to stand up for human rights and to keep an open dialogue about what should be considered universal standards of living and freedoms, it is equally important to realize that our education is Eurocentric in its curriculum and purpose, and when looking through this magnifying glass at other cultures, we do not have the lived experiences of other peoples, nor the ultimate superior lifestyle of the world. Even with seemingly superior statistics or health practices, we will never be able to replace the voices of those who live in the cultures.

Leah Bjornson, Associate News Editor

Many voices critique the “whiteness” of academia — and rightly so. There is an overwhelming number of male, caucasian scholars who write the histories of and prescribe policies for less-developed countries. The repercussions of western academics taking up the “white man’s burden” to educate people in African nations — and in doing so, treating them as children — can include ignorant policies that do not acknowledge the complications and realities on the ground.

However, by viewing this complicated relationship as a fight between ‘the West and the rest,’ we are potentially solidifying a way of thinking that created this problem in the first place. This dialogue of ‘us’ and ‘them’ might result in closing off channels of information that could be potentially beneficial. For example, if Jerven is correct in his observations that certain policies pursued by governments like Malawi are less than effective, this has vital consequences for those governments. If we discriminate and reject his thesis on the basis of his “whiteness,” then the danger is that alternative and helpful initiatives may never be implemented.

What this opening of dialogue requires is easier said than done. Western policymakers have for a long time imposed their policies in Africa, many of which have been ineffective or even harmful. It follows that African officials may distrust an academic like Jerven, whose critiques could have major implications for the amount of foreign direct investment flowing into the continent.

Nevertheless, it does not make sense to disallow talented scholars from investigating a particular issue on account of their race. In doing so, we only serve to reinforce this dialogue of “us” and “them” — which was the root of the problem.