Consulting for the not-for-profit sector, I find that there is a generally held belief that this sector is the arena for social transformations for a fair and just world. The business world represented by multinational corporations are considered exploitative, profit seeking and part of a larger conspiracy theory to colonise the world’s poor.
Technology is seen as a liberator from the vices of the commercial world and so ‘appropriate technology’ is a term used to denote technology that works for the poor; it should be small scale, cheap, repairable and must have carry a pride of ownership.
And so the not-for profit world has been focussing on developing many agro implements, transportation and improved cooking stoves to address the needs of the poor.
But now we are witnessing a paradigm shift with Intel Corp.(annual sales: USD 37.6 billion) bringing to the market a product that is not only appropriate but will make IT affordable to the poor. The Atom microprocessor and the motherboard bundled as a fused unit are available in Mumbai for Rs. 3,125 (USD 64 ), inclusive of tax and 3 year warranty. Add the cost of a cabinet, hard disk, a keyboard, mouse and a flat screen LCD display and you have a complete computer for about Rs, 11,000. (USD 225). Convert this to an EMI and it works out to under Rs. 400 per month (at interest rate of 12% pa, 36 months ). This is the cost of a monthly Cell phone or telephone bill.
The implications of this are explosive. The power of a full-fledged computer is now available to those at the bottom of the pyramid. The ‘hole in the wall’ experiment in a New Delhi juggi (www.hole-in-the-wall.com) has long established the positive impact of IT for the poor. Millions can now move to blue collared vocations and yet be modern day artisans. Family units can employ the PC to take up outsourced jobs like family run BPOs, back office work, data entry, art and design work, DTP, CAD, CAM.. the list is mind boggling.
And best of all it is produced by a company which has a quality standards light years away from any appropriate technology inventions. Just have a look at the Charkha. Promoted as a source of livelihood for millions even in an information age, it is a technology from about 50 years ago. It constantly breaks down. See the biogas plants. I would not be surprised if some thousand years from today, archaeologists dig these up in our villages and mistake them to belong to the Harappa civilisation. Just pan to a Nokia cell phone available for about Rs. 1,500 and see the space age technology contained in that 1 square inch real estate. The battery itself is a reservoir of immense human enterprise potential. Just trying to put a value to all the conversations a daily wage labourer has on a single charge. It allows him to be employable 24x7, ready to report to work immediately.
The Atom microprocessor is as powerful as the super computers of the the 1950s. And today that power is in the hand of the poorest. And it was made possible not by some United Nations development agency but by a for-profit corporation.
There are those who will oppose IT as a solution for poverty and social injustice. They wish that the poor remain farmers, spin Khadi, and tend their cattle so that the rest of us can sit in front of our laptops, connect to internet, read this blog and hold discussions. Also attend some international conference to oppose this move of Intel to kill our IT industry by ‘dumping’ this Chinese made technology. Even raise the old torn and tattered swadeshi flag.
Amen.
Tuesday 15 September 2009
Thursday 19 February 2009
Slumdog Millionaire by Danny Boyle
I went to see the film and evaluate its appeal for our fellows of the Football Team. However I come back disturbed by the journey.
Mr Boyle takes us into the shadows of the ‘underworld’ – a world of nightmares, of unspoken realities that exist simultaneously with our ‘upperworld’. A world of orphans, maimed into a life of beggardom, of young girls prepped into prostitution, of communal hate, police torture of a minor with a car battery – the list is deep.
This journey into the living hell brings out into the open all the pathology of our society. Its malice is found in societies across the globe, but Mumbai is the chosen as the canvas for this macabre drama. At every turn, Boyle’s cynicism of our paradoxical society is subtly shown. It’s pungent and hurts like the scene in which Lalita puts red chilly powder on little Jamal’s groin in jest.
What social purpose does the film serve for a local audience must be pondered. For a western audience, this is the image of India they hold and now is reinforced. Great to bring tears and create dogma. The producers and the publicist are having a field day with the Oscar nominations. But who will soothe the wounds of such children, that the film makes no restraint in opening up, with an attitude of voyeurism. Almost everybody is speaking about the film, but most probably the ball stops there. Dharavi will now certainly be on the list of the eco-tourist.
Now when people ask me about my work, they will easily draw the image of the actors as images of the marginalised youth. ‘Oh! It is so great that you work with street children’. Excuse me, these are two different worlds ! My fellows of the football team and the 100 odd juniors of the specialised football team are smiling, resilient and poor children. They love football; they laugh and play with their coaches. They have families which support them. , it is written that they will take their rightful place in society as per their destiny, but not by winning a million or two in a quiz contest. They will work hard, lead a good life and build a community.
Sure, who knows what pathos lurks in the shadows of their life, but we will discover together the spring of their well being, rather than the deep well of their pathos.
Mr Boyle, you chose dark and satanic colours to paint our lives. Where is the red of kumkum, the saffron of dawn, the silver of the our stars, the green in that spade of grass…
You wrote a song, which chokes me and leaves me gasping for breathe.
Mr Boyle takes us into the shadows of the ‘underworld’ – a world of nightmares, of unspoken realities that exist simultaneously with our ‘upperworld’. A world of orphans, maimed into a life of beggardom, of young girls prepped into prostitution, of communal hate, police torture of a minor with a car battery – the list is deep.
This journey into the living hell brings out into the open all the pathology of our society. Its malice is found in societies across the globe, but Mumbai is the chosen as the canvas for this macabre drama. At every turn, Boyle’s cynicism of our paradoxical society is subtly shown. It’s pungent and hurts like the scene in which Lalita puts red chilly powder on little Jamal’s groin in jest.
What social purpose does the film serve for a local audience must be pondered. For a western audience, this is the image of India they hold and now is reinforced. Great to bring tears and create dogma. The producers and the publicist are having a field day with the Oscar nominations. But who will soothe the wounds of such children, that the film makes no restraint in opening up, with an attitude of voyeurism. Almost everybody is speaking about the film, but most probably the ball stops there. Dharavi will now certainly be on the list of the eco-tourist.
Now when people ask me about my work, they will easily draw the image of the actors as images of the marginalised youth. ‘Oh! It is so great that you work with street children’. Excuse me, these are two different worlds ! My fellows of the football team and the 100 odd juniors of the specialised football team are smiling, resilient and poor children. They love football; they laugh and play with their coaches. They have families which support them. , it is written that they will take their rightful place in society as per their destiny, but not by winning a million or two in a quiz contest. They will work hard, lead a good life and build a community.
Sure, who knows what pathos lurks in the shadows of their life, but we will discover together the spring of their well being, rather than the deep well of their pathos.
Mr Boyle, you chose dark and satanic colours to paint our lives. Where is the red of kumkum, the saffron of dawn, the silver of the our stars, the green in that spade of grass…
You wrote a song, which chokes me and leaves me gasping for breathe.
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