From Aid to Investment: Reframing Development at AAPS 2025

By Joanna Bourke, Chief Executive – Pacific Cooperation Foundation

Last week, I had the privilege of attending the Australian Association for Pacific Studies (AAPS) 2025 Conference, held at the University of Sydney under the theme Discourse and Destinies. It was an extraordinary gathering of thought leaders, activists, artists, academics, and community builders — all with a shared commitment to interrogating how we think, speak, and act in relation to the Pacific.

This past week I had the privilege of speaking at the Australian Association for Pacific Studies (AAPS) 2025 Conference, hosted by the University of Sydney. It was a space where scholars, storytellers, policy thinkers, and practitioners gathered to explore what Pacific futures could look like — if defined by Pacific peoples, on Pacific terms.

The theme, “Discourse and Destinies”, asked us to confront the stories we tell about development, and the structures that continue to shape it. And at the heart of many of the sessions, including the panel I was invited to join, was a call for radical reimagination.

I sat on the panel titled “We Need to Talk About D.E.V.E.L.O.P.M.E.N.T”, alongside academic powerhouses like KDee Aimiti Ma’ia’i and Opeta Alefaio, and under the guidance of two respected leaders — Dame Meg Taylor and Solstice Middleby. Each panellist brought a distinct but interconnected provocation.

KDee shared a compelling exploration of Samoa’s banana trade during the colonial and early postcolonial periods, revealing how Pacific regionalism began to take root as a political response to economic control. Opeta delivered a sharp and timely critique of the ways in which Pacific practitioners are too often made invisible in externally led climate and information management programs — challenging us to consider epistemic justice and sovereignty in every development model.

My own contribution was grounded in the work of the Pacific Cooperation Foundation — and in a belief that narrative change is a form of power-shifting. I posed the question: What if we moved from transactional aid to relational investment? What if we stopped designing programmes to fix or fund, and instead started designing partnerships to co-create, invest, and learn?

I shared examples from our Perceptions of New Zealanders of the Pacific research, which reveals how public sentiment shapes government policy. When New Zealanders see the Pacific as dependent, their institutions follow suit. But when they see connection, potential, and shared future — the doors for equity and engagement begin to open. I also highlighted our work through the Manaaki Internship ProgrammePitch It Pacific innovation sprints, and our Mana Wantaim alumni platform — as models of development that centre Pacific youth, capability, and voice.

Importantly, I reflected on language — and why it matters. If we continue to speak about the Pacific in ways that flatten its complexity or perpetuate a deficit view, we limit what is imagined and resourced. Our words shape worlds. And so, reclaiming our own narratives — as individuals, as organisations, and as a region — is a form of sovereignty.

Being part of this panel reminded me that although I don’t speak from an academic background, I do speak from experience rooted in community, policy, and practice. And that matters. Because what we need now — across institutions and sectors — are bridging voices. People who can translate values into action, research into programmes, and policy into relationships.

The University of Sydney provided a powerful platform to do just that. It was inspiring to witness the calibre of thought and critique being nurtured in Australia’s academic circles, and to see the University embracing these themes with sincerity and openness. It gave me real hope — that Pacific-led development is not just being debated, but increasingly demanded, from both within and beyond the region.

As I shared in my talk, I carry with me the words of Epeli Hauʻofa:
“There is a world of difference between viewing the Pacific as ‘islands in a far sea’ and as ‘a sea of islands.’”

For me, that difference is not just metaphorical — it’s deeply personal. As a daughter of the Moana, shaped in diaspora but grounded in Tonga, returning to my roots was not just a homecoming. It was a reckoning. It reminded me that power is not always loud, and leadership is not always positional. Sometimes, it looks like holding space, asking better questions, and remembering the stories we belong to.

As PCF continues to evolve as a platform for Pacific voices, a connector across systems, and a partner in values-led development, I leave Sydney with renewed resolve — to listen more, to amplify wisely, and to keep showing up in spaces where our region’s futures are being shaped.

Fakafetai lasi, University of Sydney. Mālō ‘aupito, AAPS.
Let’s keep walking together.

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Aid Isn’t Under Attack — But the Pacific Is Under Pressure