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Group Executive Chairman for Econet Wireless Global Strive Masiyiwa speaks onstage during the 2018 Concordia Annual Summit at Grand Hyatt New York on September 25, 2018 in New York City. (Photo: Riccardo Savi/Getty Images for Concordia Summit)
After years of public scrutiny for undemocratic decision-making, the Seattle-based Gates Foundation--one of the wealthiest and most powerful private philanthropies in the world--made headlines earlier this year when it expanded its board of trustees. In spite of an emphasis on diversity, all the new trustees have close financial ties with the Foundation and share a belief that technology will solve the world's problems. Because of our own work on food and agricultural issues (as a US researcher and Zimbabwean farmer, respectively), we are particularly concerned about what the appointment of Strive Masiyiwa means for the Foundation's future agricultural development work in Africa and around the world.
This narrow, tech-focused perspective positions agriculture as only a business.
Masiyiwa played a central role in the Gates Foundation-funded Alliance for a Green Revolution in Africa (AGRA), which promotes a destructive model of US-style industrial agriculture and is opposed by many civil society organizations and farmers' associations in Africa. Masiyiwa chaired AGRA from 2013 to 2019, in spite of having, in his own words, "no background in agriculture." After stepping down, he was appointed co-chair of Grow Africa, a platform for private sector investments that are made as part of the New Alliance for Food Security and Nutrition. Although both AGRA and Grow Africa claim to benefit small-scale farmers, they actually help corporations like Nestle, Unilever, and the fertilizer company Yara gain access to new markets, consumers, and profits in Africa.
Masiyiwa, like Bill Gates himself, is fundamentally a tech opportunist. A Zimbabwean billionaire who made his money through telecommunications, he invented an Uber-like app for farmers to rent tractors using mobile money and has advocated for drone use in farming. As is clear in his work and writing, he views African agriculture as a vast and as-yet largely untapped frontier for tech investment and profit. This mirrors how the Gates Foundation itself already thinks about African agriculture, and will do little to diversify the Foundation's agricultural activities or increase alignment with international recommendations.
This narrow, tech-focused perspective positions agriculture as only a business. This threatens and invalidates local and Indigenous understandings of agriculture as simultaneously an economic activity, a cultural practice, and a form of environmental stewardship. As such, programs guided by a singular focus on making agriculture function like a business cause immense violence to the individual small-scale farmers who are forced to keep up with the costs and competition involved in industrial (and increasingly digital) farming.
Contrary to the IT-influenced "solutions" proposed by Masiyiwa and Gates, the small-scale farmers that both of us have worked with in our respective careers tend to demand more grounded and practical interventions: more resources and support for agroecology (a science-based method of agriculture modeled after ecosystem processes); infrastructural support from national governments; assistance with desalinating soils; and the creation of locally-run processing or preservation facilities and networks to get value-added products to viable markets.
This is not to deny that some digital innovations can be beneficial. For example, extension services are increasingly using text messages to communicate rainfall data and planting advice, with demonstrated positive effects for certain farmers. But we should be mindful about both the motivations and effects of tech-based interventions: do they serve small-scale farmers' needs and enhance their work and lives, or do they help companies and start-ups sell ill-suited products and services while increasing debt and inequality among farmers? Masiyiwa's actual and proposed interventions seem more likely to do the latter.
Masiyiwa might represent African entrepreneurs, but he doesn't represent or serve the hundreds of millions of small-scale farmers who produce most of the continent's food, whom he paternalistically claims to be "freeing from the drudgery of the hoe." The board of the Gates Foundation makes decisions that impact African farmers' futures and lives--why don't those farmers have a seat at the table?
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
After years of public scrutiny for undemocratic decision-making, the Seattle-based Gates Foundation--one of the wealthiest and most powerful private philanthropies in the world--made headlines earlier this year when it expanded its board of trustees. In spite of an emphasis on diversity, all the new trustees have close financial ties with the Foundation and share a belief that technology will solve the world's problems. Because of our own work on food and agricultural issues (as a US researcher and Zimbabwean farmer, respectively), we are particularly concerned about what the appointment of Strive Masiyiwa means for the Foundation's future agricultural development work in Africa and around the world.
This narrow, tech-focused perspective positions agriculture as only a business.
Masiyiwa played a central role in the Gates Foundation-funded Alliance for a Green Revolution in Africa (AGRA), which promotes a destructive model of US-style industrial agriculture and is opposed by many civil society organizations and farmers' associations in Africa. Masiyiwa chaired AGRA from 2013 to 2019, in spite of having, in his own words, "no background in agriculture." After stepping down, he was appointed co-chair of Grow Africa, a platform for private sector investments that are made as part of the New Alliance for Food Security and Nutrition. Although both AGRA and Grow Africa claim to benefit small-scale farmers, they actually help corporations like Nestle, Unilever, and the fertilizer company Yara gain access to new markets, consumers, and profits in Africa.
Masiyiwa, like Bill Gates himself, is fundamentally a tech opportunist. A Zimbabwean billionaire who made his money through telecommunications, he invented an Uber-like app for farmers to rent tractors using mobile money and has advocated for drone use in farming. As is clear in his work and writing, he views African agriculture as a vast and as-yet largely untapped frontier for tech investment and profit. This mirrors how the Gates Foundation itself already thinks about African agriculture, and will do little to diversify the Foundation's agricultural activities or increase alignment with international recommendations.
This narrow, tech-focused perspective positions agriculture as only a business. This threatens and invalidates local and Indigenous understandings of agriculture as simultaneously an economic activity, a cultural practice, and a form of environmental stewardship. As such, programs guided by a singular focus on making agriculture function like a business cause immense violence to the individual small-scale farmers who are forced to keep up with the costs and competition involved in industrial (and increasingly digital) farming.
Contrary to the IT-influenced "solutions" proposed by Masiyiwa and Gates, the small-scale farmers that both of us have worked with in our respective careers tend to demand more grounded and practical interventions: more resources and support for agroecology (a science-based method of agriculture modeled after ecosystem processes); infrastructural support from national governments; assistance with desalinating soils; and the creation of locally-run processing or preservation facilities and networks to get value-added products to viable markets.
This is not to deny that some digital innovations can be beneficial. For example, extension services are increasingly using text messages to communicate rainfall data and planting advice, with demonstrated positive effects for certain farmers. But we should be mindful about both the motivations and effects of tech-based interventions: do they serve small-scale farmers' needs and enhance their work and lives, or do they help companies and start-ups sell ill-suited products and services while increasing debt and inequality among farmers? Masiyiwa's actual and proposed interventions seem more likely to do the latter.
Masiyiwa might represent African entrepreneurs, but he doesn't represent or serve the hundreds of millions of small-scale farmers who produce most of the continent's food, whom he paternalistically claims to be "freeing from the drudgery of the hoe." The board of the Gates Foundation makes decisions that impact African farmers' futures and lives--why don't those farmers have a seat at the table?
After years of public scrutiny for undemocratic decision-making, the Seattle-based Gates Foundation--one of the wealthiest and most powerful private philanthropies in the world--made headlines earlier this year when it expanded its board of trustees. In spite of an emphasis on diversity, all the new trustees have close financial ties with the Foundation and share a belief that technology will solve the world's problems. Because of our own work on food and agricultural issues (as a US researcher and Zimbabwean farmer, respectively), we are particularly concerned about what the appointment of Strive Masiyiwa means for the Foundation's future agricultural development work in Africa and around the world.
This narrow, tech-focused perspective positions agriculture as only a business.
Masiyiwa played a central role in the Gates Foundation-funded Alliance for a Green Revolution in Africa (AGRA), which promotes a destructive model of US-style industrial agriculture and is opposed by many civil society organizations and farmers' associations in Africa. Masiyiwa chaired AGRA from 2013 to 2019, in spite of having, in his own words, "no background in agriculture." After stepping down, he was appointed co-chair of Grow Africa, a platform for private sector investments that are made as part of the New Alliance for Food Security and Nutrition. Although both AGRA and Grow Africa claim to benefit small-scale farmers, they actually help corporations like Nestle, Unilever, and the fertilizer company Yara gain access to new markets, consumers, and profits in Africa.
Masiyiwa, like Bill Gates himself, is fundamentally a tech opportunist. A Zimbabwean billionaire who made his money through telecommunications, he invented an Uber-like app for farmers to rent tractors using mobile money and has advocated for drone use in farming. As is clear in his work and writing, he views African agriculture as a vast and as-yet largely untapped frontier for tech investment and profit. This mirrors how the Gates Foundation itself already thinks about African agriculture, and will do little to diversify the Foundation's agricultural activities or increase alignment with international recommendations.
This narrow, tech-focused perspective positions agriculture as only a business. This threatens and invalidates local and Indigenous understandings of agriculture as simultaneously an economic activity, a cultural practice, and a form of environmental stewardship. As such, programs guided by a singular focus on making agriculture function like a business cause immense violence to the individual small-scale farmers who are forced to keep up with the costs and competition involved in industrial (and increasingly digital) farming.
Contrary to the IT-influenced "solutions" proposed by Masiyiwa and Gates, the small-scale farmers that both of us have worked with in our respective careers tend to demand more grounded and practical interventions: more resources and support for agroecology (a science-based method of agriculture modeled after ecosystem processes); infrastructural support from national governments; assistance with desalinating soils; and the creation of locally-run processing or preservation facilities and networks to get value-added products to viable markets.
This is not to deny that some digital innovations can be beneficial. For example, extension services are increasingly using text messages to communicate rainfall data and planting advice, with demonstrated positive effects for certain farmers. But we should be mindful about both the motivations and effects of tech-based interventions: do they serve small-scale farmers' needs and enhance their work and lives, or do they help companies and start-ups sell ill-suited products and services while increasing debt and inequality among farmers? Masiyiwa's actual and proposed interventions seem more likely to do the latter.
Masiyiwa might represent African entrepreneurs, but he doesn't represent or serve the hundreds of millions of small-scale farmers who produce most of the continent's food, whom he paternalistically claims to be "freeing from the drudgery of the hoe." The board of the Gates Foundation makes decisions that impact African farmers' futures and lives--why don't those farmers have a seat at the table?