Category: Technology

AI with purpose

One of the most ‘fun’ things about AI is asking it to draw on its knowledge of your work and give an opinion or ideas. It’s easy to sense-check (we all know our own stories) and when you’ve got 20+ years of history online, there’s plenty of material for your AI of choice to be trained on. I’ve made a point of sharing all of my writing, speaking and interview content on this website over the years, and have always felt anything I’ve learnt should be made available to anyone who may find it useful. Because of that ‘share by default’ mentality I’ve got less of an issue having my work hoovered up by ChatGPT and the like than, say, a professional author might.

Today I decided to ask ChatGPT to give me an overview of my book, The Pursuit of Purpose, and to come up with a Reading Guide for it. Although I do get a sense of pleasure doing stuff like this, believe me when I say it’s more than a simple ego-massaging exercise. I’ve been genuinely interested in how the book might be used by changemakers-to-be for a while, and I’m planning a second edition which I hope makes it even more accessible to people (more on that in a future post).

So, to start, here’s what AI thinks of the book (emphasis by ChatGPT, not me).

The Pursuit of Purpose by Ken Banks is widely regarded as a thoughtful, honest and inspiring book, especially for people interested in social impact, technology for good, and finding meaning in their work.

STRENGTHS OF THE BOOK

Personal and Real. It’s not a ‘how-to’ or self-help formula. Instead, Ken shares his personal journey – from uncertainty to global impact – with honesty about his mistakes, doubts, and growth.

Inspirational for Changemakers. If you’re trying to make a difference in the world but feel overwhelmed, this book offers encouragement. It shows that you don’t need to be a big-name leader or have a perfect plan to make a real difference.

Grounded in Real-World Experience. Ken doesn’t just talk about purpose in theory. He’s spent years working in ICT4D (Information and Communication Technologies for Development), especially in Africa, and shares real stories from the field.

Accessible and Reflective. It’s easy to read and feels like a conversation with someone who’s been through the challenges of searching for purpose and doing meaningful work.

WHO IT’S BEST FOR

  • Young people looking for direction.
  • Anyone working in social innovation, development or tech for good.
  • Readers interested in purpose-driven work beyond traditional career success.

If you’re exploring identity, social change and meaningful living – especially from a mindful or values-based perspective – this book pairs really well with Buddhist or reflective reading too.

If any of this has piqued your interest then feel free to download the book (or buy it from Amazon, or any place that sells books) and have a read. I’d love to hear your thoughts if you decide to do that.

After basking in glory for a few minutes , I then asked ChatGPT to give me a Reading Guide, something that people could use to frame and guide their reading of the book. This is what I got.

Reading Guide: The Pursuit of Purpose

Author: Ken Banks
Theme: Discovering purpose through real-world experience, especially in social change and technology for good.

Structure of the Guide

  1. Before You Start
  2. Chapter-by-Chapter Questions
  3. Reflection Prompts
  4. Creative Exercises
  5. Final Project Idea

1. Before You Start

Ask yourself:

  • What does ‘purpose’ mean to me right now?
  • Do I believe you have to ‘find’ purpose or can you build it through action?
  • Am I hoping to make a difference in the world? If so, how?

2. Chapter-by-Chapter Questions

(These are thematic and not tied to exact titles, as the book reads like a personal journey.)

Chapters 1–3 (Early Life & Uncertainty):

  • What moments in Ken’s early life shaped his curiosity?
  • Have you ever felt unsure of your direction like he did? What helped?

Chapters 4–7 (Discovery Through Action):

  • How did Ken’s travels and real-world experience shape his sense of purpose?
  • What does this say about the value of doing versus just thinking?

Chapters 8–11 (Building FrontlineSMS):

  • What stands out about how Ken developed his technology?
  • What role did listening to others play in his process?
  • What mistakes did he make, and what did he learn?

Chapters 12–End (Reflection & Purpose):

  • How did Ken’s definition of purpose evolve?
  • What kind of impact did he create – and what fuelled it?

3. Reflection Prompts

Use these in a journal or discussion group:

  • Describe a moment where something felt meaningful to you. What made it feel that way?
  • What strengths or skills do you have that could help others – even in a small way?
  • Are there any fears or doubts holding you back from starting something purposeful?

4. Creative Exercises

  • Timeline of Purpose: Draw a timeline of your life so far. Mark moments when you felt close to or far from your sense of purpose.
  • Purpose Collage: Make a visual collage (paper or digital) of what ‘purpose’ looks like to you using images, quotes, or symbols.
  • Idea Starter: Choose one problem you care about. Brainstorm one small action you could take in the next week to explore it.

5. Final Project Idea

Design a Purpose Project Plan
Based on what you learned, outline a small project you could start:

  • What is the purpose behind it?
  • Who would it serve?
  • What tools or knowledge do you already have?
  • What’s the first step?

Over the years I’ve spoken at many schools and universities around the world, and supported and mentored a number of young innovators. Not only is giving back something we ought to do, but it’s something I enjoy (and something I continue to do). Fortunately, through my writing, speaking and affiliations with the likes of National Geographic, a lot of my work (and how I feel we should go about social change) does reach far and wide, but there’s always that tricky last mile.

Hopefully this post, and in particular the Reading Guide, will get into the hands of a teacher or university lecturer somewhere, and help me reach out just that little bit further.

Mindful action. Meaningful change.

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.

Why we need more anthropologists

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Today I’m back at the University of Edinburgh talking to anthropology students about how I’ve used my degree in my global technology/development career. I can’t overstate how refreshing it is to speak to a room not obsessed with technology, or scaling projects, or measuring impact. For me, it’s always started with the people and, for everyone in the room, it will be the same. I’ve long advised people interested in a career in global development to study anthropology (better still, anthropology with development studies, as I did at Sussex University).

It may sound crazy, but there aren’t enough people focused on understanding people in the technology-for-development world (one week field trips carrying out surveys don’t count). You see plenty of ‘Technology Advisor’ roles, but where are the ‘People Advisors’? There’s plenty of everything else, just not enough of that. I’m currently looking at work opportunities in the technology-for-development sector, and don’t think I’ve seen a single job description define a major requirement for time spent in the field, understanding the context of technology use in global development. And, of course, no mention of the word ‘anthropology’ anywhere. Everything else seems to matter more than that, and it’s something we have to put right. Anthropology has a huge amount to offer the sector – it just doesn’t seem to know it yet.

A question that I often get asked when people get over the shock that I have an anthropology degree, not something computer science-related, is “What on earth would anthropologists be doing playing with mobile phones?”. The answer may be a little more obvious than you think, but let’s start at the beginning.

Anthropology is an age-old, at times complex discipline, and like many others it suffers from its fair share of in-fighting and disagreement. It’s also a discipline shrouded in a certain mystery. Few people seem to know what anthropology really is, or what anthropologists really do, and a general unwillingness to ask simply fuels the mystery further. Few people ever question, for example, what a discipline better (but often incorrectly) ‘known’ for poking around with dinosaur bones is doing playing with mobile phones and other digital devices.

What anthropology isn’t

The public face of anthropology likely sits somewhere close to an Indiana Jones-type character, a dashing figure in khaki dress poking around with ancient relics while they try to unpick ancient puzzles and mysteries, or a bearded old man working with a leather-bound notepad in a dusty, dimly lit inaccessible room at the back of a museum building. If people were to be believed, anthropologists would be studying everything from human remains to dinosaur bones, old pots and pans, ants and roads. Yes, some people even think anthropologists study roads.

Despite the mystery, in recent years anthropology has witnessed something of a mini renaissance. As our lives become exposed to more and more technology, and companies become more and more interested in how technology affects us and how we interface with it, anthropologists have found themselves in increasing demand. When Genevieve Bell turned her back on academia and started working with Intel in the late 1990’s, she was accused of “selling out”. Today, anthropologists jump at the chance to help influence future innovation and, for many, working in industry has become the thing to do.

What anthropology is

So, if anthropology isn’t the study of ants or roads, what is it? Generally described as the scientific study of the origin, the behaviour, and the physical, social, and cultural development of humans, anthropology is distinguished from other social sciences – such as sociology – by its emphasis on what’s called cultural relativity, the principle that an individuals’ beliefs and activities should be interpreted in terms of their own culture, not that of the anthropologist. Anthropology also offers an in-depth examination of context – the social and physical conditions under which different people live – and a focus on cross-cultural comparison. To you and me, that’s comparing one culture to another. In short, where a sociologist might put together a questionnaire to try and understand what people think of an object, an anthropologist would immerse themselves in the subject and try to understand it from ‘within’.

Anthropology has a number of sub-fields and, yes, one of those does involve poking round with old bones and relics. But for me, development anthropology has always been the most interesting sub-field because of the role it plays in the gobal development arena. As a discipline it was borne out of severe criticism of the general development effort, with anthropologists regularly pointing out the failure of many agencies to analyse the consequences of their projects on a wider, human scale. Sadly, not a huge amount has changed since the 1970’s, making development anthropology as necessary today as it has ever been. Many academics – and practitioners, come to that – argue that anthropology should be a key component of the development process. In reality, in some projects it is, and in others it isn’t.

The importance of KYC (Know Your Customer)

It’s widely recognised that projects can succeed or fail on the realisation of their relative impacts on target communities, and development anthropology is seen as an increasingly important element in determining these positive and negative impacts. In the consumer electronics sector – particularly within emerging market divisions – it is now not uncommon to find anthropologists working within the corridors of hi-tech companies. Intel, Nokia and Microsoft are three such examples. Just as large development projects can fail if agencies fail to understand their target communities, commercial products can fail if companies fail to understand the very same people. In this case, these people go by a different name – customers.

Selling phones as torches in Uganda. Photo: Ken Banks

The explosive growth of mobile ownership in the developing world is largely down to a vibrant recycling market and the initial arrival of cheap $20 feature phones (and now $75 smartphones), but is also down in part to the efforts of forward-thinking mobile manufacturers. Anthropologists working for companies such as Nokia spend increasing amounts of time trying to understand what people living at the bottom of the pyramid, or those with very limited disposable income, might want from a phone. Mobiles with flashlights are just one example of a product that can emerge from this brand of user-centric design. Others include mobiles with multiple phone books, which allow more than one person to share a single phone (a practice largely unheard of in many developed markets) and phones which hold multiple SIMs.

My anthropology journey

My first taste of anthropology came a little by accident, primarily down to Sussex University‘s policy of students having to select a second degree subject to go with their Development Studies option (this was my key interest back in 1996). Social anthropology was one choice, and one which looked slightly more interesting than geography, Spanish or French (not that there’s anything wrong with those subjects). During the course of my degree I formed many key ideas and opinions around central pieces of work on the appropriate technology movement and the practical role of anthropology, particularly in global conservation and development work.

Today, mobile devices are closing the digital divide in ways the PC never did. Industry bodies such as the GSM Association, who have previously run Bridging the Digital Divide initiatives, today remain extremely active in the mobile-for-development sector. International development agencies pump hundreds of millions dollars into economic, health and educational initiatives centred around mobiles and mobile technology. Mobile phones today are almost as exciting as big data, 3D printers and drones.

I’m immensely proud of my anthropology roots, and the insights it has given me in my work. Without it, I’d not have successfully conceived and developed FrontlineSMS. I’m also very proud with my ongoing association with Sussex University in my capacity as Ambassador for International Development.

And I’m always happy to do my part to promote the discipline in the technology-for-development world because I think it needs more – many more – anthropologists walking the corridors if it’s to take full advantage of the wonderful digital opportunity it has been given. I just hope it starts paying attention before it’s too late.

The end of a golden age of discovery?

Exactly six years ago this week I was in Washington DC to collect the Pizzigati Prize for Software in the Public Interest, an award given each year to an individual who has created or led an effort to create an open source software product of significant value to the non-profit sector and movements for social change. While the Prize came in a golden spell for me and my work, I wonder if that golden age of discovery in our wider sector – which I was privileged to be a part of – is now over?

When Livingstone, Stanley and Speke set out on their voyages of adventure across Africa, their objective was not only discovery but to show the impossible was possible – that you could penetrate into the heart of Africa – the ‘Dark Continent’ – and live to tell the tale. Although later discoveries and adventures still roused public and press interest (and awards and recognition for the individuals involved) for many that early raw, frontier period was gone, never to return.

Bushbuckridge, South Africa (2003). A frontier of mobile exploration. Photo: Ken Banks

When I look back through the 15-year history of kiwanja.net, much of the first few years felt like a period of raw expectation and raw exploration. It was a bit of a Wild West. Nobody really knew what would work, how it might work, or who it might benefit. Most people weren’t even aware of the early signs of what was to famously become the ‘mobile revolution’. Back then, innovation wasn’t a word thrown around casually, you could have put everyone working in mobile-for-development into a small room, and there wasn’t such a thing as best practice. For me and many of those around me, it felt like those early days for Livingstone, Stanley and Speke. It felt like we were making trails that others might follow, but we didn’t know where they would lead, if anywhere, and what we might learn.

My early work, without any doubt, felt like it came in a golden age. It felt like we were forging a path – one centred around the use of SMS in conservation and development – where no-one else had been before. Like those early Africa explorers, interest and fascination among the public and press was high. And because of it, the project grew and awards and recognition came. Over a six year period multiple fellowships, awards and prizes arrived, along with considerable amounts of funding for FrontlineSMS which, for a while, seemed to be everywhere. You could try anything, safely in the knowledge that it was unlikely anyone else had tried it before.

In the true spirit of adventure, in 2010 I had the huge privilege of being named a National Geographic Emerging Explorer. At the time it felt like a very bold move by the Selection Committee. Almost all of the other Emerging Explorers were either climbing, diving, scaling, digging or building, and what I do hardly fits into your typical adventurer job description. But as I think about it today, as I write this post, in a way it does. As mobile technology continued its global advance, figuring out ways of applying the technology in socially and environmentally meaningful ways was a kind of 21st century exploring. Since 2010 a number of other friends and colleagues have gone on to be named Emerging Explorers whilst working in the technology sector, continuing a trend at National Geographic of reframing exploration in a digital age.

Today – as I reflect on this, the later stages of my career – my time is increasingly spent helping others cut their own route, and sharing stories of those who succeed. Today we have more tools than ever at our disposal to help solve the social and environmental problems around us – perhaps too many – but despite this the golden age feels over. Our field has become professionalised, and with it we have lost a lot of the magic.

In reality, all that has really changed is that frontiers have shifted. Maybe I just prefer the one I lived through all those years ago.