IDLO on Trade: Make it Fairer!
Buying a bar of
chocolate, a pack of coffee… Picking this one over that one… “Bananas?
Ah yes… Let me see the label… Shall we get those smaller ones?”
Over the last two decades or so, western consumers have wised up. They
take it as read that what they once viewed as mundane choices are in
fact a fraught proposition; that the product on the shelf comes with a
hinterland of ethical concerns.
The notion that how one behaves in a supermarket has an aggregate
impact on the wellbeing of those who make the stuff — and on the
wellbeing of the planet — is now part of the progressive consensus.
There is an understanding that shopping for groceries in the North is a
butterfly-effect thing; that it can feed or starve mouths in the South,
determine school enrolment and child mortality rates, sustain or
destroy vital environments. Increasingly, the producer has a face. It
is most often brown or black. It is the face of a fellow world citizen.
And it is this awareness — a familiarity born of globalization itself —
that underpins fair trade. At some six billion dollars in 2010, fair
trade is still a small fraction of the global trade in food and fibre.
Yet this share continues to rise in double digits, even as purchasing
power dips in Europe and North America. In the UK, fair trade covers up
to half of all bagged sugar. In Switzerland, fair trade bananas are the
norm. In The Netherlands, Parliament, ministerial offices and local
authorities buy fair trade.
Expanding social consciences are certainly driving fair trade’s bright
prospects. But so is the taste for slow food and organic produce. And
by ricochet, so are food scares — most recently, Europe’s horse meat
scandal. Ever-higher premiums are being placed on traceability: the
public likes its supply chains short.
As befits all movements that come of age, fair trade has been critiqued
from both right and left. It is, depending on whom you listen to, the
way forward for all trade; a brake on free trade; a win-win for North
and South; a con; a boon; not as fair as it claims to be.
Yet attitudes are not just about ideological bias: if fair trade means
different things to different people, it is also because overall, its
regulatory regime remains patchy. While Fairtrade International and the
World Fair Trade Organization are influential groups, there is no
global governing authority. Associations, some national and some
regional, abound and overlap. If fair trade standards have one thing in
common, it is that they are high.
This means, of course, that the bar for producers is also set high. Too
high, perhaps, for those farmers whose goods might qualify, yet who are
too small, too poor, too deprived of the right infrastructure and the
legal tools to access even local, let alone international, markets.
How to make fair trade work for the most disenfranchised of farmers is
the focus of a two-day debate sponsored by the International
Development Law Organization in Rome. Participants — governments, NGOs,
trade bodies — will be told of two Quechua-speaking mountain
settlements, Rumicorral and Ambrosio Lasso. Both communities are in
Ecuador. Both are so remote and culturally estranged from the
Ecuadorean mainstream that they have only been able to trade, in
effect, with themselves. What little produce they sold to outsiders has
been routed through intermediaries, at extortionate rates.
In both places, lack of access to markets has perpetuated a hellish
cycle of poverty and undernourishment. There is corn in Rumicorral and
Ambrosio Lasso, and there are potatoes, and goats, and pigs, almost all
organic¬. But there is hardly any education, and not much law to
sustain commerce. Or there wasn’t, at least, until IDLO came in,
supported by funding from Rome and goodwill from Quito.
“There is a Quechua concept of ‘living in plenitude,’ says Rodrigo
Naranjo Guamán, a young indigenous lawyer working with IDLO. “It
implies overall harmony. But there’s been none of that here: resources,
the land — nothing has been used adequately. These communities were
yearning for the kind of knowledge that would keep the young from
migrating in search of work...”
With the right dose of legal empowerment, IDLO believes, the people of
Rumicorral and Ambrosio Lasso could use fair trade to pull themselves
out of destitution. Lack of knowledge has certainly held them back: if
they had social rights, no one had told them. But they, and similar
communities elsewhere, are also facing hurdles rooted in governance
systems. These typically include restrictive licensing regulations,
lack of legal services to register cooperatives, weak enforcement of
social and environmental standards, and poor access to finance.
“The law can be an obstacle, but it can also have a crucial role in
creating a more just, equitable and accessible trading system,” says
IDLO Director-General Irene Khan. In Ecuador, her organization has
conducted rights-awareness courses, workshops on forming business
associations and securing credit, and sessions on sustainable resource
management. Early signs are that in both communities, a can-do attitude
is starting to take hold, as legal barriers to entrepreneurship are
removed one by one. “The first phase of the program has given people
the hope than they can finally be heard,” says the lawyer, Mr Naranjo.
“They are eager to enter the fair trade market and shape a better
future for themselves.”
In Rumicorral and Ambrosio Lasso, IDLO has used legal services as a
communal leg-up of sorts. Yes, the organization seems to be saying,
fair trade is a commendable system. But have its benefits trickled down
far enough? Are the right regulations in place to bring its premium
markets within reach of all poor farming communities? When the trading
potential of even the most disenfranchised has been tapped — only then
will we have unleashed fair trade’s life-changing power.