The Politics of Doing Good

Doing good sounds simple—until values clash, interests compete, and doing the right thing isn’t always the easiest or most popular choice.

My understanding of leadership began long before I had the language to explain it.

It started at home.

My parents involved me in children’s and youth organizations early on. My dad was an organizer and leader in our village, church, and other organizations. Growing up, I saw how people could come together to turn ideas into action.

I didn’t realize it then, but I was learning to lead long before I had a title.

Years later, community development, social entrepreneurship, and leadership fellowships taught me that leadership also means navigating institutions, bridging competing interests, and influencing the systems that shape people’s lives.

Working with local governments, businesses, development organizations, and communities showed me that each has its own priorities and realities. Sometimes they align. Other times, they collide.

The challenge is finding common ground without losing sight of the people the work is meant to serve.

1. The personal side of doing good: Principles in an imperfect system

Before I could think about changing systems, I had to confront a difficult question: What do you do when reality goes against everything you believe in?

I still remember the first time I witnessed corruption in my work with government.

I was a crybaby. Literally.

I couldn’t stomach what I saw. It went against everything I believed in, and I even asked my boss if I could be reassigned.

Fortunately, I wasn’t.

One of my mentors challenged me to look for the good in people and consider whether they could be given opportunities to do better.

This wasn’t about tolerating corruption. Accountability matters, and wrongdoing must be challenged. But condemning a broken system and changing one are two different things.

Some people are open to change; others aren't. We have to remain principled while recognizing where we can make a difference—and when we need to step away.

Idealism gives us a reason to begin. Discernment helps us decide how.

But principles alone cannot move the needle. Turning convictions into progress requires people willing to act and the ability to bring their strengths together.

2. The collective side of doing good: Mobilizing people and resources

I’ve always loved bringing people together to get things done.

In my earlier work, I mobilized volunteers, led national events, and coordinated organizations across sectors. I learned that even the best plans require flexibility.

I remember spending several sleepless nights preparing a major event featuring presentations by our nonprofit’s top five funders and their country managers.

Then the Vice President of the Philippines arrived early.

Our carefully prepared program had to change to accommodate protocol. Haha! A reminder that preparation matters, but so does the ability to adapt.

A far more significant experience was supporting earthquake rehabilitation efforts in the province where my family is from.

Working alongside local transport groups, farmers, fisherfolk, persons with disabilities, grassroots organizations, local government leaders, and mayors, we mobilized one million documented volunteers within three months.

No single organization could have achieved that alone. It took coordination, trust, and an understanding of what each group could contribute.

Communities were not merely beneficiaries waiting for assistance. They were active participants with the knowledge and capacity to shape their own recovery.

That experience reinforced a lesson I carry into my work today: people are not just recipients of solutions; they should help shape them.

But mobilizing people is only part of the equation. Policies and institutional decisions influence which initiatives receive support, whose voices are heard, and whether community-led efforts can grow. Understanding those dynamics became another essential part of my work.

3. The political side of doing good: Policy, power, and representation

My appreciation for policy dialogue deepened through my engagement with the British Council, particularly through cultural exchange, diversity, and dialogue.

I learned to listen to perspectives that challenged me, understand competing interests, and distinguish personal priorities from the broader needs of the sector we represent.

About a decade ago, we had the opportunity to contribute to the development of our country’s fisheries post-harvest roadmap. These discussions could influence government priorities, programs, and resource allocation—with real consequences for fishing communities.

I saw the value of bringing ground-level experience into policy conversations. I also saw how difficult these spaces could be when priorities, ownership, and recognition came into conflict.

One experience brought this home for me.

A development bank approached me to explore a potential partnership with our social enterprise. During a subsequent conversation, the president of a fisheries organization questioned our impact and argued that the bank should consider partnering with his organization instead. He also presented an important recommendation I had shared during the planning process without acknowledging my contribution.

I found the experience disappointing, particularly given our work supporting fishing communities. It also reminded me how easily professional disagreements can become entangled with questions of credibility, recognition, and competing interests.

We continued focusing on our work and building relationships across institutions. Our social enterprise eventually became one of the major partners involved with the national government fisheries department and the international NGO supporting the initiative.

A few months later, another mentor introduced me to the same person. This time, he expressed interest in exploring a partnership with us.

Life does have a sense of humor, doesn’t it? Haha!

I ultimately decided not to pursue the opportunity because our approaches and values did not align closely enough.

Not every opportunity to collaborate is an opportunity worth taking. Collaboration matters, but it should be grounded in mutual respect, shared purpose, and a willingness to work constructively across differences.

For me, representation is a responsibility, not a personal entitlement. Having a voice in policy discussions means bringing forward the realities of the people we serve, recognizing others’ contributions, and helping advance the sector beyond our own organizations.

The goal is not simply to get our ideas heard. It is to help shape decisions that serve the people affected by them.

Doing good beyond ourselves

These experiences have shaped how I approach leadership: stay grounded in your principles, bring people together, and understand the systems that shape the outcomes you seek.

In social entrepreneurship, where communities, markets, government, and development institutions must work together, these lessons are especially relevant.

For me, having a seat at the table has never been the goal in itself. What matters is what changes because we're there—and whether the people most affected have a meaningful voice in those decisions.

The politics of doing good is learning to navigate competing interests without losing sight of the common good.

Leadership isn't measured by how many powerful people we know or how many tables we get invited to. It is measured by what becomes possible for others because we showed up—and what continues long after we leave.

The goal was never just to have a seat at the table. It was to help make the decisions made around it better for the people whose lives they affect.