Burnout Isn’t Personal: Why Aid Work Ignores Its Systemic Roots
In the world of aid and international development, certain conversations feel almost taboo—discussions about unlearning, relationality, and systemic harm rarely make it into the mainstream. Instead, the focus often stays on measurable outcomes, efficiency, and quick fixes. Yet, these unspoken ideas may hold the key to addressing some of the most pressing challenges in the field. Why, then, don’t we talk about them? The reasons are as systemic as they are personal.
The Dominance of the System
Aid work exists within a larger system shaped by colonialism, capitalism, and patriarchy. These systems prioritize productivity, hierarchy, and control, leaving little room for relational approaches that emphasize care, community, and shared accountability. Metrics like the number of beneficiaries reached or projects completed become the benchmarks of success, sidelining deeper questions about long-term relational impacts.
Talking about unlearning and relationality requires us to critique the systems that fund and govern aid work. It calls out power imbalances between donors and recipients, between Global North institutions and Global South communities, and even within aid organizations themselves. For many, these critiques feel too dangerous—threatening job security, funding streams, and the status quo.
The Myth of Neutrality
One of the great myths in aid work is the idea of neutrality—that the work exists outside of politics, systems of power, or cultural context. But aid work is deeply political. It operates in a world where colonial histories still shape relationships between nations and where systemic inequality perpetuates poverty and crisis.
Discussing unlearning means confronting the uncomfortable reality that aid work itself is not neutral. It often reinforces the very systems it seeks to dismantle. This level of self-reflection can feel overwhelming for individuals in the field, especially when their identities and livelihoods are tied to the work.
Burnout and Survival Mode
Aid workers are no strangers to burnout. The relentless pace of emergencies, coupled with the emotional toll of witnessing suffering, leaves little space for self-reflection. For many, simply surviving the day-to-day demands of the job feels like all they can manage.
Unlearning and relationality, however, require time, energy, and vulnerability. They demand a willingness to pause, to question, and to imagine new ways of being and working. For aid workers already stretched thin, these conversations can feel like a luxury they can’t afford—even though they are precisely what’s needed to break the cycle of burnout and disconnection.
The Fear of Change
Finally, we don’t talk about unlearning in aid work because change is hard. Admitting that the systems we work within are flawed—and that we ourselves have internalized those flaws—is deeply uncomfortable. It forces us to confront our complicity in systems of harm and to rethink how we define success, effectiveness, and even care.
For organizations, this discomfort translates into fear of losing control, disrupting workflows, or challenging donors. For individuals, it can mean questioning one’s purpose, identity, and place within the system. Change is uncertain, and many would rather stick with familiar patterns, even when they’re harmful, than risk the vulnerability of transformation.
Bringing the Conversation to Aid Work
Despite these challenges, it’s essential to start these conversations in aid work. Unlearning and relationality are not just philosophical ideas—they are practical tools for addressing the root causes of inequality, building sustainable systems, and fostering collective resilience.
Talking about relationality doesn’t mean abandoning metrics or structure; it means integrating care and connection into how we measure success. It means shifting from a mindset of delivering aid to one of co-creating solutions, honoring the wisdom and agency of the communities we work with.
Aid work cannot truly succeed without addressing the relational ruptures and systemic harms it operates within. It’s time to break the silence, embrace the discomfort, and start weaving new ways of being that prioritize people, relationships, and the planet.
An Invitation
What would it look like if aid work embraced unlearning and relationality? How might it feel to build systems that care for both workers and communities? These are not easy questions, but they are necessary ones. Let’s start talking about them—because the future of aid work depends on it.
PS - many wonderful advocates and scholars DO talk about this in aid work. There have been criticisms of international development, and aid, since the sector began. In time, I’ll post many of these critiques on this site. It is not historically accurate (and egregious) to act like we don’t know. The information is there. It’s just that the dominant story often stifles, oppresses and erases these spaces. You can check out critical development studies as a ‘field’ for example.
