Blog by Ponke Danker, INEW Coordinator
If you’re like me, you’ve probably read everything you could possibly find about the recent aid cuts — whether in the US, Belgium, France, Switzerland, the UK — and anyone, anywhere, discussing them. I’ve read so much that my partner suggested enabling child safety controls on my phone, as endlessly scrolling through these stories before bed isn’t exactly what you’d call a productive bedtime routine.
You’ve likely read it all: the hardest part to process — the lives lost or at risk, the suffering caused, the futures compromised, the education that won’t be delivered, and the school children that won’t receive support. You’ve read the arguments reminding us why aid, however flawed, remains essential. By now, you’ve probably even read the takes that frame the cuts as a much-needed push, an opportunity, to rethink the system entirely.
It becomes overwhelming— and yet, I still don’t feel like I’ve found what I’m really looking for.
Maybe that’s because the one thing I want to find — the “answer” to how “everything will be alright again” and what the future holds for humanity — simply isn’t there. It still needs to be negotiated, fought for, found.
And while I may not be alone in following discussions about rethinking the system with interest—finding them educating, valuable as part of a broader debate on long-term change—you might share my concern that this perspective feels a bit too “glass half full” and detached from the real suffering caused by abrupt cuts.
We have good reason to be worried about aid cuts. And within our network, the Irish Network for Education Worldwide, we have good reasons to be particularly concerned about what they will mean for education in emergencies, development, and the achievement of SDG 4.
We understand the profound impact of aid and humanitarian action.
It saves lives, provides critical healthcare to the most vulnerable, ensures food security, supports communities affected by climate change, fosters equality, and breaks the cycle of poverty through education. Aid responds to humanitarian crises driven by conflict, climate emergencies, and other global challenges (Global Humanitarian Overview 2024). It fosters a fairer global system, stabilises countries, and strengthens communities’ self-sufficiency. As highlighted in an insightful article by Richard Dannatt, it “reduces the burden on the military” and enhances global security. Furthermore, it can improve international perceptions of our countries, expand influence, benefit trade negotiations, mitigate climate change, and build prosperity for all (thought-provoking read by David McNair).
Education plays a vital role in this.
A cornerstone of progress in every society, it fosters prosperity. You find a list of influential reports and reads in our winter and summer reads. Most strikingly, research found that without investing more in education, the global economy loses an estimated US$10 trillion annually. It also directly links early school leaving and acquiring less than basic skills with a lower quality of life. (More in our blog here.)
If reason so clearly tells us that dismantling and reducing aid is devastating—and if, thankfully, many of our colleagues have elaborated on this in depth (Karol Balfe from Action Aid Ireland, Jane-Anne Kenna for Dóchas, Miriam Donohue a consultant with ActionAid to name but a few)—then it becomes even harder to understand why it is happening. So I started looking deeper, coming across insightful analyses on hidden motives—tax cuts for the wealthy or policies aimed at keeping taxes low are among the less shocking reasons (find here an insightful article by Mark Blyth on Social Europe). Suddenly, things start to make more sense. But this realisation is also the most alarming. Because it is difficult to reason with those who have no interest in being reasoned with—those who do not want to be convinced or, rather, exposed.
But here’s what stands out: the urge to dismantle aid comes from a particular group—a particularly loud group. And it’s easy to mistake “loud” for “majority.”
From the data I can find, the picture is not as clear-cut as some might suggest (find here a recent study by Focus2030, another from a year ago, data for UK from 2024, data for Germany from 2021). There is still much to uncover, but there is little evidence to suggest that a clear majority is and has been for a while against aid. Many remain supportive, some are indifferent, while others seem to be changing their opinions based on ideology and the current political climate, or they simply aren’t entirely convinced yet. Only a minority appears to hold the extreme view that aid is a waste.
In Ireland, thanks to electoral snapshots and research by Dóchas, we know that public support remains strong, with over two-thirds of the population believing it is important for the Irish Government to provide overseas aid. Education in developing countries is a personal concern for 29% of those surveyed (39% among empathisers). Additionally, 76% agree that aid improves people’s lives by providing access to education, healthcare, clean water, and sanitation. When asked about the most important priorities for Irish Government support on overseas aid, education ranked second, just behind health.
Right now, many of us and many of our members have good reasons to be cautious, even silent. We must preserve what can be preserved. Negotiations must take place. We must continue to convince decision-makers with what we know—because the evidence is there. Anger and desperation will not move us forward – we know that. We will do our part. There are many reasons to remain measured.
But in the face of the loud but powerful few, we cannot afford to be entirely silent.
There is a risk that those who lean toward supporting aid because it wasn’t questioned before, or those who are simply undecided, will be swayed by the loudest voices, further contributing to the existing trend of declining support. In a membership organisation—a network—our strength lies in our many voices. We know: This is the true power of coming together—to counterbalance the power imbalance and ensure that those with power are not louder than the many voices.
And while we advocate and negotiate, we must stand firm on the fundamental values that transcend data and evidence—why we must continue to strive for (and fund!) a just, inclusive society worldwide: for humanity, solidarity, responsibility, and compassion. Whether working quietly behind the scenes or speaking out on a larger stage, we cannot allow the core truth to be buried: humanity and humanitarian principles must stand strong—and it remains our most important belief. Because we care! And we continue to believe that most of us do!
We can and should be loud in declaring the world we want—one where every person can live in dignity, be empowered with food security, healthcare, protection, and quality education.
What else can we do?
There are many ways to support our colleagues abroad now: RECI, the Swiss Coalition of GCE is asking you to sign their petition (any nationality and support welcome) to save basic education. If you are a US citizen support the US Coalition of GCE here. And most importantly, voice your support for aid and humanity as loudly and widely as possible.
INEW advocates to achieve inclusive, equitable, and safe quality education for all worldwide, committed to reaching the furthest behind. Many of our members deliver impactful education projects across the world funded by aid and our members are devoted to global solidarity. We will continue to monitor the situation and identify the best course of action and we’d love to hear from you. If your organisation is interested in sharing its experiences on our blog, please reach out to us at [email protected]. We are also still running a survey to learn from our members about the impact on their education work: access survey here.
