On Moral Imagination

[This talk was given by Jacqueline Novogratz during in India in January 2025.]

I was deeply touched on so many levels, especially by where you started—with gratitude. It's definitely one of my practices to begin every talk with gratitude. I’m really overwhelmed by the gratitude I feel in this room, in this beautiful place—for the volunteers, for all the speakers, and for all of you. Thank you.

Also, in the spirit of my work, a daily practice I follow is recognizing the unseen labor that makes my day possible. By the time I get out of bed, brush my teeth, make my tea and coffee, and step out the door, I've already touched hundreds of things made by the work and toil of laborers and farmers all around the world—people I will never know. This practice grounds me because, for the last 40 years, my focus has been on solving the problems of poverty. As Rohit said, not in ways that simply increase income, but in ways that recognize that the opposite of poverty is dignity, opportunity, choice, and freedom.

The Journey from Me to We

Moving from 'me' to 'we' requires stories. Many of you have asked, “Will you talk about patient capital? Impact metrics? Moral leadership?” I’ll try to touch on them, but forgive me if I don’t hit them all.

Let me start in 1986. At 25, I left my career on Wall Street. I loved the power of markets, but I had also seen how they overlook and sometimes exploit the poor. So I moved to Kigali, Rwanda, where I met five amazing Rwandan women. Together, we co-founded the nation’s first microfinance bank—at a time when women couldn't open a bank account without their husband's signature. I saw firsthand that a small group of people could change at least a corner of history.

Three years later, I left. Then, four years after that, the Rwandan genocide erupted. The women with whom I had started this bank played every conceivable role in the genocide—victim, bystander, and perpetrator.

Fast forward to 1996. I found myself sitting in the biggest prison in Kigali, talking to Agnes, one of my co-founders. She had become the Minister of Justice under the genocide regime and was now the highest-ranking Rwandan official convicted of crimes of genocide. She looked so young—her head shaved, wearing a pink dress, freckled nose, long eyelashes. I thought, “Agnes, you don’t look like a monster.”

That was a turning point for me. Maybe the monsters we learn about as children aren’t the real monsters. Maybe the monsters live within all of us—in our broken parts, our insecurities, our petty grievances, and our deep anxieties. It is in times of deep inequality and turbulence that demagogic leaders prey on those parts, making us do terrible things.

Every one of us has monsters and angels within us—light and dark. Our job is to feed the angels and suppress the monsters, both individually and systemically.

Building Dignity Through Patient Capital

Speaking of Vinoba’s thread, my thread has always been human dignity—holding together the light and dark. My work has been about moving into broken systems and holding opposing ideas—markets and civil society, the individual and the community, capital and character—to make meaningful change.

So in 2001, I had an idea. If markets don’t work for the poor and charity alone creates dependency—the opposite of dignity—then maybe there’s another way. That’s how we developed Patient Capital.

Could we take philanthropy and, rather than give it away, invest it for the long-term—10, 15, even 20 years—in social entrepreneurs like many of you in this room? Entrepreneurs who want to use the tools of business not just for profit, but to solve real problems.

Could we accompany these entrepreneurs with our social capital—our networks, our access, our knowledge—not solving problems for them, but holding the problems with them? Could we measure what truly matters and reinvest capital back into new enterprises for the poor?

At first, people called us crazy, naïve, idealistic. Because in the capitalist system, the norm is “make money here and give it away there.” But I’ve learned that when they call you crazy, it usually means you’re onto something.

The Long Road to Systemic Change

Here’s an example. In 2007, two young entrepreneurs came to our office with a $30 solar light and a dream to eradicate kerosene. At the time, 1.5 billion people had no access to electricity. This is what we call Moral Imagination—the humility to see the world as it is and the audacity to imagine what it could be.

We invested $250,000. It took almost 10 years. Because when markets don’t just fail the poor but don’t even exist, entrepreneurs must understand how low-income people make decisions—they must build trust, marketing systems, financing systems, and distribution networks. And then, once things start working, they must fight the status quo—the kerosene mafias, the diesel mafias.

And then, we discovered something profound: the status quo is us. Low-income people weren’t using kerosene because they wanted to—it was just the only system that worked for them. Breaking that took time. But 10 years later, this company reached 50 million people.

Yet, when we took this profitable, impactful company to impact investors, they said, “Not good enough.” They still wanted market-rate returns first, impact second. So, we created our own for-profit funds—all guided by solving problems of poverty.

Scaling Up: From Light to Systemic Change

That gave us the ability to invest not just in companies, but in ecosystems—from solar lights to household systems, cell phones, solar irrigation, and even solar motorcycles with removable batteries.

But then, we looked at the bigger picture. Even though our energy companies had reached 230 million people, nearly 700 million people still had no electricity—almost all in Africa. 75% of them live in 20 African nations the world overlooks and underestimates.

So, we built a new approach: The Hardest to Reach initiative—using grant funding, patient capital, blended capital, and philanthropy to reward companies reaching the hardest places on Earth. 

Moral Leadership & The Power of Dignity

Six years into Acumen, we realized that capital alone wasn’t enough. We needed to develop a new kind of leadership—moral leadership.

We needed to teach skills and attributes not taught in business school:

• Holding opposing ideas in tension.

• Deep listening—not to convince or convert, but to understand.

• Using identity to connect, not divide.

So, we started Acumen Academy, the world’s school for social change, where people amid division find affinity through shared values of human dignity.

The Moment of Freedom

A year ago, I visited a company doing regenerative agriculture. I met Sarah and Faith, two Kenyan farmers. When I asked if they had moved out of poverty, Sarah said:

“Before, I was always stressed. I didn’t have enough money to feed my children. I made bad decisions. But now, I wake up knowing I can feed them. Jacqueline, a few weeks ago, I even bought a dress.”

I asked her what that felt like. She looked up and said:

“To me, it feels like freedom.”

The Radical Idea of Hope

We are each other’s destiny. The seeds of my dignity live in you. It is through human interactions—which can ladder up into better systems—that I believe human transformation is possible.

Being here with all of you has been the biggest gift. I deeply appreciate each of you and what you are teaching me. Thank you for listening.