We Canadians believe ourselves to be quite the generous lot. We dig deep into our pockets to donate to international disaster relief for epidemics in Africa and devastating hurricanes in Haiti. In fact, 82% of us donated money in 2013 to charities and non-profits to the tune of $12.8 billion dollars. It goes without saying that this generosity applies to emergencies within our own borders too: Canadians recently donated $300 million dollars to Fort McMurray disaster relief efforts. But disasters closer to home also bring out a different type of generosity. Many of us put away our wallets and replace financial donations with in-kind goods. In the Fort McMurray example, the Edmonton Emergency Relief Services also received tonnes of diapers and food for the families. Yet, despite donors’ good intentions, these “truckloads of donated goods that [were] soiled, unnecessary, and [got] in the way”, ended up hampering relief efforts. Apparently, in-kind donations are an ineffective substitute for dollars when the problem requires more than a simple snag-bag-n’-tag solution.

Boxes of food

Spilling the beans on in-kind food donations

We don’t have to look too far or wide across the country to find another glaring example of in-kind giving that could be better served through in-money donations. The Canadian ‘phenomenon of physical generosity’ is unmistakably present in our response to hunger and food insecurity in the North. Southerners take their cash to the local supermarket and purchase (inexpensive) food to ship (costly) care packages to Inuit individuals and families. They are generous with their time and resources to do their part in the fight against hunger. But like the devastation created by the Alberta wildfires, the issue of food insecurity in Nunavut cannot be solved through goods.

The rate of food insecurity in Nunavut is over four times the national average (2011-2012). Kids go to bed hungry, school breakfast programs run out of food, and fathers starve themselves so that their children can eat. It makes sense then that no one would want to say ‘STOP sending food’ to a territory that Food Banks Canada recognizes as having “the highest documented rate of food insecurity for any indigenous population living in a developed world.” In this crisis, Southerners are helping the hungry, and they are equally aware that they offer a band-aid solution while bigger players work on developing large-scale solutions:

“There are many things we can do to help enact a change, which are suggested on the Feeding My Family page, but this will take time and the people are hungry now.”

Helping Our Northern Neighbours Facebook Group

Yet, tin charity to Nunavummiut (people of Nunavut) does little to tackle the food insecurity problem, in addition to being unhealthy, culturally inappropriate, and potentially wasteful. Southerners need to reconsider where and how they share their time and energy to fight hunger in Inuit communities. We need to start thinking upstream so that the tide of hungry people is slowed. Instead of feeling good by donating food to “feel like we’ve done our part… [and] think the problem is solved.,” we need to help bring about lasting change by supporting Inuit with lived experience, and those working to help them locally.

What’s the beef with food donations?

Local food advocates have been asking Southerners for years to help raise awareness, advocate for change, or to help in ways that makes most sense – none of which include donating food. Imagine what we could accomplish if only a small portion of the 60% of Canadians that donated items to food banks in 2013, answered the call for monetary or other types of support:

  • Leesee Papatsie, the founder of Feeding My Family, a Facebook Group working to raise awareness about the outrageous cost of food in Northern communities, would like to see Southerners take on a special role as non-indigenous people, “because they can write to their members of Parliament, they can spread awareness, they can send donations, sign petitions.”
  • Wade Thorhaug, President of The Qayuqtuvik Society, a non-denominational registered non-profit that runs the Iqaluit Soup Kitchen everyday of the year, hopes Southerners donate funds not food. He recognizes that direct food donations can help in certain circumstances, but admits that Southerners “often spend large amounts on shipping which could be spent more efficiently by the recipient organization”.

Inuit-centric organizations also make recommendations for upstream solutions to food insecurity:

  • The Nunavut Food Security Strategy and Action Plan 2014-16 identified six food security themes, including: the promotion of country food; (local) access to affordable and preferably nutritious store-bought food; supporting and promoting the potential for local food production; empowering Nunavummiut through life skills, programs and community initiatives; and advocating for a strong social safety net through policy and legislative measures.
  • The Hunger in Nunavut group offered three food security recommendations: “improving hunting capacity, improving food processing and distribution capacity, and improving community awareness about local food.”

So Why Are You Still on the Great Canadian Gravy Train?

In economic terms, shipping food to hungry Inuit doesn’t make sense. Putting funds into the hands of organizations like the Qayuqtuvik Society would enable local food advocates to make better use of their resources, buy fresh, high-quality food whenever possible, and minimize administrative costs:

“In the case of Nunavut, the disincentive for sending food is extreme given the cost of air freight. Most organizations here have their own strategies for minimizing freight costs, including making sealift orders in the summer and ordering through companies that can reduce the food cost by applying the Nutrition North Canada subsidy (which is only available to certain companies).”

— Wade Thorhaug, President, Qayuqtuvik Society

Southerners need to come around to support these arguments, read these reports and recommendations, so that we start thinking beyond stemming hunger and moving to stop the problem at its source. We could work to raise awareness and advocate for basic income guarantees, better infrastructures, and support for local hunter programs to strengthen the local economy and empower families and individuals. Food can’t achieve any of this. After all, no one has ever paid an electricity bill with a tin of tuna.

can of tuna

Taye Newman

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