In India it is the law that all large businesses must make
an ‘investment’ in Corporate Social Responsibility. Any company making a profit
of over $800k must contribute 2% from each of the three previous years’ profits
to CSR projects (ie 6% per year spread over a rolling three year period). India
is a very big place, with a lot of very big corporations. 16,000 of them. There
is apparently over $2bn currently ear-marked for CSR but not yet allocated due
to a lack of suitable projects. A whole new industry has developed to help
spend this money. I had a rather bizarre experience this week when I met
someone (who had undoubtedly lost perspective) who disdainfully said: ‘Now that they are
finally running out of do-goodie education projects there might actually be
some opportunities in the water sector…’.
Despite this rather narrow minded statement there are indeed
some startling innovations coming out of India. In a separate meeting I heard
about a novel small-scale, solar-powered, thin-film distillation unit which can
produce clean water for less than £0.02/litre (for my metrically-challenged US
followers, that is approximately 12cents/US gallon). I found myself tingling
with excitement as they recounted how the process works.
Blame for the lack of CSR spending is cast far and wide, but
mostly levelled at the complex systems and hierarchy associated with the
scheme. It is almost 70 years since the British left India but we seem to have
left a legacy of bureaucracy, pecking orders and class-obsession that I
struggle to see as positive. Sadly, I am no better. I have the same proud
cravings and prejudices. Perhaps it is a British thing.
For example, this evening I attended an awards dinner. Never
one of my favourite pastimes since they tend to involve back-slapping and I
never get slapped. Tonight however it was different. I was one of the chosen! I
received the Lifetime Leadership Award for my Contribution to Technology in the
Water Sector (best to gloss over the ‘lifetime achievement’ bit, it infers it
is time I shuffled off my mortal coil). I am honoured, of course. I am honestly
not sure it is deserved, but I can’t deny that my ego swelled. As I write this
I am in a taxi heading towards airport through the busy late-night Mumbai
traffic. In my bag I have the award, a unique combination of garish golden
plastic on a heavy, wooden plinth. It could serve well as a weapon if needed.
It will either push my hand-baggage over the weight limit, or will get me strip
searched as a potential terrorist.
Knowing my luck, probably both.
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