Thinking like the global poor

Poverty, critical thinking, and the culture of Chabuduo

We have all heard the term "critical thinking", and those of us who have worked in white-collar jobs know have a particular understanding of what this means: the ability to examine an idea from multiple angles, to be skeptical of propositions, to bring in ideas from diverse sources, and to be constructively cynical, finding fault as a means to suggesting improvement. But what does critical thinking look like outside the board room or academic conference, or more pointedly, what does it look like when these skills are absent? Having studied global poverty and development, and having lived now in multiple countries alongside the global poor, I am coming to an intuitive understanding of the vicious synergy between poverty, culture, and lack of critical thinking skills.

When I lived in China, I found myself frequently encountered what is affectionately known as "Chabuduo" culture. Mandarin for "close enough" (literally "distance not much"), Chabuduo culture takes the form of very approximate, sloppy, but often sometimes very clever workaround solutions to daily problems. This can take the form of something as mundane as gluing something that should be welded, but often means things so bewildering that one does a double take and takes a photo because they are so unusual. For example:

Most expats who have lived in China that I have met have at least one incredibly Chabuduo story. A colleague once had an air conditioner installed, so the installer simply brought a portable AC unit inside the apartment and plugged it in. When my colleague pointed out that there was an exhaust hose that needed to vent the heat outside, the installer said that he could just open the window and stick the end of the hose outside. When my colleague countered that leaving the window open enough to let the hose go outside would defeat the purpose of having an AC, the installer smashed a hole in the windows with a hammer and stuck the hose through. My colleague, increasingly frustrated and bewildered, pointed out that there was now an awkwardly gaping hole way too large for the tube, the installer then got some cement and applied the cement directly to the glass to close up the hole. My own stories don't get quite this ridiculous, but they run the gamut from a repairman climbing outside on the 30th floor with no safety apparatus, a plumber who applied silicone sealant but didn't bother to get it into the joint, to a handyman who when tasked with drilling a hole near a circuit breaker where there might be electrical wires decided to just do it more slowly.

If I had to summarize the mentality of Chabuduo in one line, I would say it is "a blinkered determination to solve the immediate problem as quickly and effortlessly as possible with no regard to long-term or external consequences". It is the opposite of the perhaps better known Japanese quality of Kodawari, the typically Japanese pursuit of perfection in a task no matter the time or effort required.

As someone with limited experience living outside the developed world, I thought Chabuduo was a uniquely Chinese cultural institution, and indeed this is a common belief among both Chinese and Westerners who have lived in China. But as I have recently located to Abu Dhabi, I find myself frequently encountering immigrants from some of the poorest countries in the world - East Africa and Southwest Asia - and can now say with confidence that Chabuduo is not a unique Chinese cultural trait, but a general lack of critical thinking that can be found in poor cultures around the world.

I have been living in a new apartment in Abu Dhabi for only a week, and already I have encountered three separate instances of this Chabuduo, or profoundly uncritical, way of thinking: first, after plastering (for a second time) over a wall that had been soaked and damaged by a leak, a painter wanted to paint it immediately, and I had to persuade him that the wet wall needed to dry for several days before sealing it with a layer of paint. Second, said painter did a few touch-ups on the ceiling of the apartment, and in doing so he employed an impressive bucket walk . However instead of using a plastic bucket, he shimmied around on a rusty metal bucket, etching rusty traces onto the new tile floor. Third, and most absurd, a cleaning woman decided that the best way to clean the floor of our partially-furnished apartment was to dump several gallons of bleach water into the living room and guide this tidal wave around the entire flat; once I realized her plan I frantically ran ahead of her lifting all the textiles off the ground, but nevertheless had a sock and pair of shoes damaged by the impromptu bleach tsunami.

There is, almost, a kind of beauty in this way of thinking and acting: detached from all thought of consequence, one is free to approach every problem with a sledgehammer of immediate efficacy. The absurd humor in the above photos is proof of that; they reveal a nearly artistic, perhaps dadaist, defiance of what me might think of as good sense. This attitude makes for quick and effective problem-solving. The problem is that it can cascade into a hydra-like proliferation of problems down the line.

If Chabuduo is a blinkered focus on the immediate problem without context, critical thinking must mean the consideration of a problem in context from multiple possible angles; a consideration of the root causes and possible consequences of a problem and its solutions.

In underdeveloped regions, people often do not have the time and resources to do this deep, critical consideration. A stream needs to be crossed. No one in the village has the time or skill to build a bridge, so a plank lying nearby is laid across the stream. A few people cross smoothly; the next breaks the plank, twists their ankle and drops their goods, and now the village is down a plank, down some goods, and down a good ankle. Multiplied day by day, over an entire region or economy or country, the problem is ouroboric: the global poor lack the education and resources to create permanent, critically thought out solutions to their problems, so the slapdash solutions cause problems to proliferate, sucking out even more time and resources. And to escape the economic malaise of these areas, workers leave the Chinese or Pakistani or Ugandan village and come to Suzhou or Shenzhen or Abu Dhabi, bringing their culture of problem solving with them.