When Development Tools Shape the Soul

After decades in international development, I have begun to recognize a subtle danger—not in the projects themselves, but in the mindset the work can gradually form in those who carry it out.

In development, we plan carefully. We articulate assumptions. We distinguish between activities, outputs, outcomes, and long-term goals. We don’t just train farmers or mothers; we aim to see measurable change at deeper levels. Those disciplines are good. They protect us from confusing busyness with impact. But over time, I realized that the tools we use for projects can quietly become the philosophy by which we live our lives.

Planning frameworks assume that progress can be engineered. If we anticipate outcomes, monitor carefully, and adjust intelligently, results should follow. Yet in real life, both in development and beyond, assumptions fail. Unexpected consequences arise. People are not always rational. Operating contexts change. Programs must adapt. Good development eventually teaches humility.

What I did not see for many years was that I had internalized the same posture personally. I wanted not only to do meaningful work for God’s Kingdom; I wanted order and alignment. I wanted to make sure things were moving in the right direction. It was, in many ways, about being in management control. Even my prayers sometimes sounded as though they had been drafted out of an MBA program.

In retrospect, I see small signs of this mindset. I chose nonfiction over fiction because it seemed more efficient. Nonfiction gave me tools. It moved directly to conclusions. Fiction felt indulgent. Only later did I understand that stories shape interior life in ways analysis cannot. The same applies to relationships. Networking often has objectives; friendship does not. True friendship grows from shared values, not leverage.

I realize now that I can only seek to act faithfully, with the right motives, and leave the results to God. I have come to believe that the interior life of development workers, and of organizations, matters as much as strategy.

Without tending to the soul, our tools begin to shape us more than we shape them. And that is a subtle drift that takes years to notice.