Whenever we set out to make the world a better place, our instinct is often to jump straight in and get ‘doing’. Driven by a sense of urgency that pushes us to act without delay, we find ourselves desperate to fix, or to build, or to solve. Perhaps it’s because we’re drawn to the visible impact of the doing, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned throughout my own journey it’s that meaningful, lasting change rarely starts with action.

It starts with understanding. And understanding begins with mindfulness.

In my own work, particularly during the development of FrontlineSMS, I’ve learnt that you can’t ever assume to know what people need or want. That assumption is the biggest mistake I’ve seen people make over the years. Before I’d even written a line of code I spent time listening, observing, probing and asking questions. I always felt it was important to try and step into the shoes of the people I wanted to try and help, and to spend time with them. And what I realised was that the most appropriate solutions weren’t tech-focused, but people-focused.

Assessing an aid project with CARE staff and recipients, Malawi (2015). Photo: Hayley Capp

Although I didn’t realise it at the time, my anthropological approach aligned perfectly with core Buddhist thinking, which teaches us to act without attachment to outcome, to listen deeply and to cultivate compassion as a guide to action. It invites us to bring awareness into each step we take, resisting the rush to do, and instead choosing to be fully present with the people and problems we encounter.

This is the foundation of mindful action.

Mindful action means creating space between intention and impact. It means recognising that the desire to help, while noble, can still do harm if not grounded in humility. Many well-meaning projects fail because they are imposed rather than grown from the ground up. They ignore the wisdom of local people. They treat symptoms, not causes. Mindfulness helps us slow down enough to see the whole picture.

For many years now I’ve promoted empathy as the starting point for all meaningful development work. True empathy requires us to suspend judgment, to listen without waiting to reply, and to accept that we might not have all the answers. In a world desperate for quick fixes, overnight successes and shiny new tech, my approach sometimes came across as a little radical, although I always saw it as plain common sense. However you define the approach, it was certainly a necessary one. The complexity of global challenges – from inequality to climate change and everything in between – demands depth, not just speed.

Mindful action also asks us to reflect on our motivations. Are we helping because we want to be seen as helpful? Because we need to feel useful? Or because we have truly connected with the issue and the people affected by it? When our actions are aligned with genuine care and awareness, they carry a different energy. They become sustainable. They invite collaboration. They build trust. And harmony. 

There’s a quiet strength in pausing. In taking the time to understand a community’s history, values, needs and dreams before proposing solutions. In other words, in living with uncertainty rather than rushing to fill the silence. Practicing mindful action helps us realise that sometimes the best thing we can do is listen. Or amplify someone else’s voice. Or step back entirely.

Technology can be a powerful tool for change, but it is only as effective as the intention and context behind its use. In my work I’ve seen how simple, low-tech solutions can transform lives when designed with empathy and care. I’ve also seen how high-tech projects fail spectacularly when they ignore local realities or are primarily ego-driven. Mindful action is not about the size of the solution. It’s about the depth of the connection.

Bushbuckridge, South Africa (2003), where I carried out my early mobile work.

For any doubters out there, mindful action doesn’t mean inaction. It means intentional, thoughtful and respectful movement. It means taking time to understand before intervening, and knowing when to lead and when to follow. It calls on us to let go of control, to be open to change, and to see the people we work with not as beneficiaries, but as equals and experts in their own lives. Sometimes I feel that much of the global development work I witnessed over the years had forgotten this, and that was one reason I stepped back all those years ago.

In the end, practicing mindful action is about aligning our external efforts with our internal values. It asks us to lead with presence, to build with care and to remain open to being changed by the work that we do. It might not always be fast, and it might not always be easy, but it is real. And in a world craving authenticity and connection, that may be the most powerful form of change we have.