Good intentions aren’t always enough
This idea really hit home for me when I read Doing Good Better by William MacAskill. The book was a gift from my colleague Ivan Annibal, and it turned out to be one of the most thought-provoking reads I’ve come across in a long time. MacAskill is one of the leading voices in the effective altruism movement, which encourages people to use evidence and reasoning to do the most good they can.
One story in particular stood out. It’s about the PlayPump, a water pump installed in rural African villages. The concept was simple and appealing. Children would play on a merry-go-round, and as it spun, it would pump clean water into a storage tank. On the surface, it seemed like the perfect blend of play and practicality.
But things didn’t go as planned. Children got tired quickly or were injured. In many cases, women ended up spinning the pump themselves and found it harder and more exhausting than the traditional hand pumps. There were also problems with maintenance. The PlayPumps often broke down and couldn’t be repaired locally. Perhaps most concerning, many communities hadn’t even been asked whether they wanted one. When they were finally consulted, some said they preferred the simpler systems they had before.
It’s a powerful example of how something that looks like a clever solution can go wrong if it isn’t grounded in the realities of the people it’s meant to help.
Recognising negative impacts closer to home
This isn’t just a problem for overseas development. It happens in local projects here in the UK too. A regeneration scheme might improve infrastructure and attract investment, but it can also raise rents and force people out. Installing smart technology in social housing might improve efficiency but cause concerns about privacy or lead to feelings of surveillance. Moving public services online might save money, but it can exclude people who don’t have access to digital tools or skills.
Sometimes the impact isn’t caused by the outcome itself, but by the way decisions are made. If a community is left out of the planning process, even the best result can feel imposed and unwelcome.
How do we find these negative consequences?
Understanding negative impacts takes more than good intentions. It means actively seeking out the voices and experiences that might not be visible at first glance.
Here are a few ways to do that:
1. Ask open-ended questions
Instead of asking “Is this working for you?” try asking “What’s become harder as a result of this change?” or “Have there been any unexpected problems?” This helps bring out the things that formal evaluations might miss.
2. Listen throughout, not just at the start
Too often, community engagement happens once, at the beginning of a project. But people’s experiences change over time. Ongoing conversations are essential if we want to understand both short-term and long-term effects.
3. Hear from the quieter voices
The loudest opinions aren’t always the most representative. It’s important to make sure we’re hearing from people who might not attend meetings, use digital channels, or have strong community networks. Sometimes that means going to where people are, rather than expecting them to come to us.
4. Create space for honesty
When people delivering or managing a project feel like they have to pretend everything is fine, problems stay hidden. A culture that encourages openness makes it much easier to learn and adapt.
5. Look beyond the numbers
Not all impacts can be measured in percentages or pound signs. Stories, observations, and small pieces of qualitative feedback can reveal challenges that data alone won’t capture. A sense of loss, frustration or exclusion matters, even if it’s hard to quantify.
Let’s do good better
Spotting negative impacts isn’t about being critical for the sake of it. It’s about taking responsibility. If we care about delivering real value, we need to look at the full picture — including the parts that don’t go as planned. Often, it’s the people with the least power who are most affected by unintended consequences. If we don’t recognise that, we risk deepening inequality rather than tackling it.
One of the most important lessons in Doing Good Better is that doing something is not the same as doing something that works. The difference often comes down to whether we’ve made space for difficult questions. Who might be left out? What aren’t we seeing? What don’t we know yet?
Being willing to ask those questions — and to act on the answers — is what makes the difference between projects that merely look good and those that actually make life better.
