A Poor Country Is Not a Developing Country

I’m seated in a very hip health food restaurant located in the premier Sea Point neighborhood of Cape Town, South Africa. Outside, the stunning view of the Atlantic Ocean stretches endlessly, and the imposing presence of Table Mountain and Lion’s Head can be felt just a head turn away.

If you turn fast enough, you’ll avoid seeing the homelessness, hagglers, and run-down businesses and buildings that occupy much of the urban landscape. The same strategy works perfectly when visiting one of the city’s many acclaimed restaurants: simply call an Uber Black, let Instagram entertain you during the drive, and prepare for an affordable 5-star luxury dining experience upon arrival. Like many of today’s most renowned travel destinations, Cape Town has everything a visitor needs to feel significantly wealthier than wherever they came from.

The term “developing country” is liberally used. Mostly, it’s a polite euphemism employed by Westerners to avoid saying “poor” or “poorer” when acknowledging the harsh economic realities of non-NATO nations — with very few exceptions. Even within economic and political discourse, the designation lacks a fixed, universally accepted definition.

South Africa is often hailed as one of the world’s premier developing countries, with Cape Town as its crown jewel. Condé Nast, Travel + Leisure, CNN, and a collection of other increasingly less-credible organizations have frequently declared it one of the world’s top cities for quality of life. Its international reputation — at least within the circles I’m connected to — is outstanding.

That all said, here I am, using my own sensibilities and intuition, and I see no signs of a developing country — I see a country in retrograde. A quick look at the past decade reveals that infrastructure has eroded, townships have grown, GDP has declined, and education and literacy have stagnated. Some easily accessible exploring and interactions provide anecdotal evidence to complement these macroeconomic trends.

For native South Africans, I say this with a very heavy heart. How sad it must be to watch your homeland — a remarkably beautiful one at that — falling apart at the hands of corrupt and incompetent government.

On the other hand, for the international community of globe-trotters and expats promoting the Condé Nast–esque reputation of Cape Town, I have little understanding and even less respect. When did affording Wagyu steak several nights a week become more important than being able to walk safely to the restaurant? When did travel become synonymous with emulating a lifestyle a person cannot afford in their home country rather than learning about and experiencing how other cultures live?

It’s deeply saddening that, even in an era when more people than ever are stamping their passports and crossing borders, so few actually see or experience the destinations they visit—instead, they frantically chase the same creature comforts they left behind, and a cute photo of themselves to prove they were there.