The Myth of Our Global Order - Developing v/s Developed Nations

Human societies have always classified each other. In earlier time, people were labeled as civilised or barbarian, believers or heathen, coloniser or colonised. In the modern era, one of the most enduring global labels is that of “developed” and “developing” nations—a binary that appears technical, even neutral, but is in fact deeply complex.

At first glance, the distinction seems straightforward. A developed country is one with high income, advanced technology, long life expectancy, and efficient institutions. A developing country is presumed to lack these things. But beneath the surface, this categorisation reflects more than economic status—it reflects power, identity, and the structure of the global order.

The most common basis for this classification is economic: specifically, Gross National Income (GNI) per capita. The World Bank uses this metric to divide the world into low-income, lower-middle-income, upper-middle-income, and high-income countries. Those in the highest bracket are generally accepted as “developed.” But this measure—while objective in appearance—masks the complexities of real human lives.

Consider China...

Its economy is vast, second only to that of the United States. Its industries manufacture the goods that fill the shelves of Western supermarkets and power the global economy. Yet its GNI per capita in 2023 was only $12,720—far below the threshold for high-income status. India, the world’s most populous democracy and the fifth-largest economy, recorded an even lower GNI per capita at $2,170. These figures, when compared with the sheer scale and global influence of these nations, reveal the inadequacy of income-based labels.

Moreover, these metrics average the fortunes of hundreds of millions, smoothing over sharp inequalities. Urban Shanghai cannot be equated with a village in rural Yunnan, just as Mumbai’s glittering business district tells us little about the conditions in India’s hinterlands. A nation’s aggregate wealth does not reflect the well-being of its people.

To address this, some institutions have introduced broader measurements. The United Nations Development Programme developed the Human Development Index (HDI), which includes life expectancy, education levels, and GNI. In theory, HDI captures not just how rich a country is, but how well its people live. In practice, it still offers only a partial image. Life expectancy may be high, but what of mental health? Literacy may be widespread, but what of critical thinking or civic engagement?

Even the term “developing” suggests a kind of linear journey—as if all countries are moving along the same path, from tribalism to capitalism, from subsistence to abundance, with Europe or the United States as the final destination. But history does not unfold like a train route. Nations develop in different ways, guided by geography, culture, colonial legacy, and political choice. Some nations, like South Korea, transformed in mere decades. Others, like many African states, continue to struggle under the weight of borders drawn by colonial cartographers and economies designed for extraction.

The global institutions that classify countries each tell a different story. The World Bank favors economic metrics. The International Monetary Fund adds variables such as financial integration and export diversification. The United Nations uses composite indicators but still avoids firm lines. The World Trade Organization, perhaps most controversially, allows nations to declare themselves “developing.” This self-designation has strategic consequences. Countries like China have used it to gain preferential treatment in trade negotiations, provoking criticism from Western governments who argue that such status should be reserved for the economically weak, not the geopolitically powerful.

This reveals an uncomfortable truth:

Development is not simply a neutral assessment—it is a tool. It determines who receives foreign aid, who qualifies for concessional loans, and who enjoys relaxed trade rules. It also affects perception. A country labeled “developing” is often assumed to be in need of guidance, if not outright intervention. But what happens when such a country becomes a creditor to the world, as China has, or launches space missions, as India does?

The development classification has real economic consequences. Low-income countries receive aid on easier terms, such as lower interest rates or longer repayment periods. They also receive technical assistance and preferential trade deals. But when a country’s economy grows—even unevenly—it can lose this access, regardless of whether its people still live in poverty. The moment of transition is not always a celebration; it is often a reckoning.

As the twenty-first century unfolds, it becomes harder to defend the old categories. Wealth is growing, but so is inequality. Technological capability exists side by side with political instability. A country might build highways and data centers while its citizens struggle to access clean water or justice. The binary of “developed” and “developing” conceals more than it reveals.

We may need to reimagine development not as a ladder, but as a spectrum. Or perhaps, more accurately, as a map of interlocking challenges: economic, environmental, institutional, and ethical. Climate change, pandemics, and technological disruption do not respect categories. A small island nation may score high on HDI but face extinction from rising seas. A wealthy petrostate may have abundant resources but fragile institutions.

In the end, development is not a destination but a question: how can societies ensure well-being, dignity, and resilience for all their people? The answers will differ from place to place, but the need for a more honest and nuanced vocabulary is universal. As with all human constructs, the idea of “development” will need to evolve—if it is to remain meaningful in a rapidly changing world.