A recent edition of our denominational newspaper here in Sydney featured an extended and very positive series of articles on the Fairtrade movement. Fairtrade is a ‘think global, act local’ sort of initiative which involves consumers in the West attempting to improve the lot of poor and exploited farmers in the third world by buying ‘Fairtrade’ products. By buying certified ‘Fairtrade’ coffee, for example, you ensure that a higher income flows to the cooperatives that produce it (usually 10% or so above the market price). The edition featured stories about Christians involved in the Fairtrade movement, and contained strong encouragement for churches to get involved—not only as a means of adding valuable momentum to the whole movement, but as a culturally attractive way of building links with our community and sharing the gospel.
I read the articles with a growing sense of shamefaced exasperation—shamefaced, because how could I object to helping third world farmers?—and yet exasperated that our denominational paper should devote so many pages to the issue. Upon reflection, I realized my problem was both economic and theological.
Economically, I fear that the Fairtrade movement is naïve. Trying to solve pricing problems on the other side of the world through our shopping choices may make us feel better, but it is unlikely to have much effect, except possibly to make the situation worse. Basic economics tells us that the usual reason prices for a particular commodity are low is that too much of it is being produced: supply and demand. This normally motivates some farmers to move into other crops in shorter supply which therefore have a higher price, giving greater return to the farmer. It’s why those nasty free markets tend to promote efficiency and prosperity.
However, artificially propping up the price of a commodity distorts this process and removes the incentive for farmers to diversify. In fact, it does the opposite: it creates an incentive for others to start producing that crop (since it has a guaranteed higher price), thus increasing output and putting an even further downward pressure on price. So there is a reasonable chance that the well-meaning ‘Fairtrade’ movement may actually make things worse in the long run for the majority of third world farmers. The world is a very complex place, and solving problems in the world (economic and otherwise) is very difficult. The intuitively obvious action (let’s give some farmers more money for their coffee by buying Fairtrade) may, in fact, end up having larger negative consequences we haven’t stopped to consider.
The same is true for nearly all the practical, secular problems we face. And the larger, more complex and more distant the problem, the more resistant it is to simple, feel-good solutions. It’s why being a politician is such an unenviable task. Even if you’re smart enough to foresee some of the by-products and consequences of your policies, there will be unforeseen negative results and implications that will only become apparent over time.
This is not just an economic judgement born of observation (although the older you get, the more you observe this phenomenon in action), it is also a theological observation. It’s the world that Ecclesiastes 3 describes for us so beautifully —a world in which we can see glimpses of order and goodness—a world in which we can affirm that everything has its right time—and yet a world which eludes us. We cannot see the whole—neither in all its parts and variety, nor in its future. This is the burden God has laid upon humanity, Ecclesiastes tells us. This is the frustration he has afflicted us with so that we might seek him, the only one who sees all and knows the meaning of all.
The gospel does and doesn’t free us from this frustration. It doesn’t give us the answers that the Preacher of Ecclesiastes agonized over. We still can’t see the whole. We still can’t explain everything. We still can’t rule the world. But we do see Jesus, the man who rules the world and who will one day free us from our frustration by bringing in God’s new creation. That’s our message to the world. We know it because the God who knows all has revealed it to us.
The continuing and frustrating opacity and complexity of the world is why Christian citizens who agree on the Bible and the gospel will, nevertheless, come to different conclusions about secular arrangements, plans and problems (like the price of coffee). We may share a biblical desire to love and do good to all people (and especially the household of faith), but think quite differently as to what the best way to help is, or what the most pressing problem to address is. So some of my brothers will conclude that the Fairtrade movement is important and worth supporting, whereas, on the whole, I think it’s a misguided waste of time.
It is just as well that our job is not to improve the world because that is a task demonstrably beyond us. What is the commission our Lord has given us? The Anglican Church in Sydney’s mission statement puts it beautifully:
To glorify God by proclaiming our saviour the Lord Jesus Christ in prayerful dependence on the Holy Spirit, so that everyone will hear his call to repent, trust and serve Christ in love, and be established in the fellowship of his disciples while they await his return.
It seems boring and it lacks all cultural credibility and attractiveness. But it’s what God has called us to do. Let’s encourage each other in getting on with it.
