Compassion in the face of conflict

A few weeks ago I took part in a weekend retreat at the Cambridge Buddhist Centre, something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. Meditation, Buddhist teachings and vegan food were the order of day, but for me the greatest insight came from conversations I had with the monks about their journeys, beliefs and opinions on Buddhism and modern life. Seeking personal enlightenment felt all well and good, I said, but how does that square with issues on the ‘outside’? You know, such as my frustration and anger with all the needless conflict and suffering going on around the world?

Image courtesy Wikipedia

Despite many great conversations, I never did get any answers that sat well with me. As someone whose work has been driven by empathy and rooted in action for so many years, stepping back and focusing my energies on how I deal with my own feelings didn’t feel like much use to anyone experiencing the suffering.

I’ve had plenty of time to think about this, and thought it might be helpful to write some of it down. But first, a caveat. While it may not have given me the answers I sought, Buddhist thinking does offer plenty of tools for engaging with situations beyond our control without falling into despair, reactivity or hatred. While Buddhism does not offer geopolitical solutions to problems, it does provide a framework for how individuals and communities might respond to suffering with clarity, compassion and courage. I’ll share some of those tools here, starting with non-attachment.

The Principle of Non-Attachment

Buddhism teaches us that our own suffering often arises from our attachment to outcomes. When we’re overly committed to a desire for peace, or for justice to be delivered in a particular way, we’re more likely to experience intense frustration or helplessness when nothing ever seems to get any better.

We’re also told that this non-attachment doesn’t mean apathy or indifference. Instead, it’s meant to allow people like me (and others far removed from the conflict) to engage constructively without being overwhelmed by feelings of rage, grief or despair. This is supposed to help us remain steady in the face of intractable suffering, continuing to care and act where we can.

To be honest, I find the application of this principle pretty difficult, particularly in the face of intolerable human suffering. Maintaining emotional distance doesn’t sit comfortably with me.

Compassion and the Recognition of Shared Suffering

Buddha taught us that all humans suffer and seek freedom from that suffering, and that compassion comes about naturally when we acknowledge this shared vulnerability. The trouble is not everyone does. With the Palestinian conflict, for example, a Buddhist approach would encourage all sides to see the humanity in everyone – Israeli and Palestinian – recognising that fear, trauma and loss are not one-sided. Buddhism invites us to hold both communities in our hearts without taking sides in a way that leads to any kind of dehumanisation.

This is another tricky one, especially in the face of what feels like relentless injustice and violence, but it’s critical for building true peace (think: Archbishop Tutu and South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission). I hate to say it, but this is another concept I have to work particularly hard at. Luckily I’m a good listener, and that might be a helpful starting point.

Right Speech and Deep Listening

Buddhism encourages speech that is truthful, kind and unifying. Sadly I don’t see much of this, particularly from our political leaders (don’t even get me started on social media). Buddhism also teaches the value of deep listening, and asks that we truly hear the suffering of others. Polarised narratives often dominate public conversation about conflict. A Buddhist-informed approach would encourage listening deeply to all sides and all stories without defensiveness or premature judgment. The objective here is to foster empathy and reduce the tendency to vilify or dehumanise the ‘other’.

The Impermanence of All Things

A central tenant of Buddhism is that nothing is fixed, and even the most entrenched suffering and conflict will eventually change (and hopefully improve and go away). Recognising this allows us to maintain hope and counteract despair by reminding us that today’s reality is not forever, and that seeds of peace, however small, can take root at any time. While any of this is hard to disagree with, I struggle with relying on others to plant those seeds. I’ve always felt that I needed to be there doing the planting with them. Maybe not.

Acting Without Ego

Buddhism discourages acting from a place of self-righteousness or moral superiority. This is perhaps one of the easiest concepts for me to grasp. I’ve worked hard throughout my career to suppress ego, and to genuinely listen to and empower others without agenda. In activism and humanitarian response, acting without ego encourages humility. We can all support peace, justice and dignity for all without needing to be right all the time (whatever that might look like) or to dominate the discussion. All of this reminds me of the importance of putting the needs of those suffering front, right and centre – not any opinions we might have about the conflict.

Mindfulness and Inner Peace

Mindfulness allows us to observe our emotions without being consumed by them, something I’m slowly getting better at. In moments of helplessness, mindfulness allows us to notice our pain without turning it into hatred or numbness. This creates space for grounded, thoughtful action rather than reactive outrage. Sadly, in today’s short-term attention economy, sitting back and reflecting before reacting and responding is becoming increasingly rare. I sleep on things a lot more these days before deciding what steps I might take, if any.

FINAL REFLECTIONS

In all my Buddhist reading, study and practice over the last couple of years, trying to balance my deep feelings about conflict and human suffering with my gut reaction to get active and do something about it has been by far my biggest challenge. I get the need for enlightenment, to better understand ourselves and to manage how we process things, but I’m yet see how any of that makes much of a difference to people being bombed out of existence every day.

In its defence, nowhere does Buddhist thinking ask us to withdraw from injustice, but it asks us to engage in a way that does not create more suffering. It encourages action rooted in understanding, presence and compassion, all qualities that are desperately needed in the face of seemingly impossible and never-ending conflict. Thich Nhat Hanh, a Buddhist monk who lived through the Vietnam war, often said that ‘Peace in the world begins with peace in ourselves.’

He’s probably right. I’ll let you know if I ever get there.

One day

If there was ever the time and the place for a book, this is that book and this is that time.

It’s no exaggeration to say that I was a different person before I started reading it. Powerful doesn’t come close. Whatever your views on what’s happening in Palestine (and, indeed, in many other parts of the world) you really should read this.

I bet you won’t be the same either.

You can read more about ‘One day, everyone will have always been against this‘ here.

 

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.