Paths to Scale

In 2024, the global smartphone penetration rate was 80 percent, with over half of the world’s population also connected to the internet.1 The advent of the smartphone and increased access to the internet has brought about rapid changes in the humanitarian sector and raised expectations for increased efficiency of humanitarian operations and delivery of new digital services to people living in humanitarian settings. Increasing digitalization can positively impact people affected by crises as well; people on the move, for instance, can get access to information about their route and services along the way, connect with relatives, or receive money, all through their phones. This fuels the argument that mobile phone access and access to mobile apps can increase inclusion for vulnerable populations like migrants.2

However, in addition to legitimate concerns regarding data privacy and surveillance risks imposed on already vulnerable people, the digitalization of the humanitarian sector also raises questions about how mobile applications created in the humanitarian ecosystem can actually scale and be financially sustainable. This question has particular relevance in a sector that is facing dramatic budget constraints. Despite criticism, following the lure of innovation and a more business-oriented approach holds charm for humanitarian organizations in the face of the struggle to meet growing needs with limited budgets. The tensions of rolling out mobile applications in the humanitarian sector are often shaped by their business and implementation models. The design process also greatly impacts how they can move beyond the prototype stage.

Humanitarian Innovation

The development of humanitarian mobile applications is shaped by, and contributes to, a broader focus on “humanitarian innovation,” which is driven by the increasing need to “do more with less.”3 One of the arguments for innovation—particularly digital innovation in the humanitarian sector—is the increased efficiency it promises through reducing transaction costs and potentially expanding reach. But typically, humanitarian crises are temporal in nature, making a business case for innovations that respond to them more complicated than in contexts where there is more stability and a more clear long-term “market.”4 Despite criticism, since C. K. Prahalad introduced the idea that people living at the “bottom of the economic pyramid” represent an addressable “market,” there has been an explosion of social-oriented companies proposing products and services adapted to these communities.5 However, there is an inherent tension between the nature of scale (maximalism) inherent to tech-based innovation business models, and the minimalist humanitarian logic of providing basic needs to a very specific population. Jamie Cross and Alice Street argue that thinking about scale requires an assumption that a product can be “universal,” but that this may ultimately inhibit scale by preventing the creation of products that truly meet important needs.6

The promise but also criticism of applying market-based logics to the humanitarian sector is particularly relevant when examining the rapid proliferation of mobile applications developed by or for humanitarian organizations in response to specific crises. Mobile applications promise to harness smart phone penetration to deliver services and efficiency in humanitarian contexts, but the reality is more complex. Partnerships with private sector actors pose ethical questions, like what data is collected and how is it stored and used.7 Questions of whether these apps are used, whether developing apps is the best use of scarce humanitarian resources, or whether these apps will ever become sustainable (both financially and in terms of usage) are legitimate.8 Users in humanitarian contexts may lack complementary infrastructure to even use an app (such as internet access and electricity), and it is increasingly common for multiple different apps to exist for the same purpose.

Many apps are developed with specific project funds, but maintenance costs are often overlooked, leading them to eventually die out. This trend has been described as the trap of “pilotitis,” where so many mobile applications in the humanitarian sector simply stay stuck in the pilot phase.9 Being reliant only on project funds means that apps are not necessarily developed for a validated user need but rather based on topics that can attract funds. Additionally, while smartphone penetration has dramatically increased, inequalities such as a gender difference in smartphone access can inhibit beneficiaries in accessing mobile technologies.10 This is particularly true for the numerous apps seeking to provide information and services to migrant populations.

To illustrate the diversity of implementation models in humanitarian mobile applications and their specific challenges, we examined a set of representative cases meeting three criteria: (1) the app must be usable on mobile devices (including native and web-based applications), (2) it must be publicly accessible, and (3) it must be developed by, or in partnership with, a humanitarian organization. These apps reveal a spectrum of implementation models—from fully owned and internally developed apps to subscription-based platforms and community-maintained open-source tools. Two broad functional categories quickly emerge: (1) applications offering direct services to migrants and refugees, and (2) applications designed to improve operational efficiency for humanitarian organizations and used by humanitarian staff. The first category often reflects donor-driven priorities and fluctuates with shifting funding landscapes, while the second addresses recurring operational needs, which contributes to greater sustainability. Impact was assessed using indicators such as download numbers, longevity, and where available, financial sustainability data.

GIFMM Contigo, developed by the International Organization for Migration (IOM), targets Venezuelan migrants arriving in Colombia. Although widely advertised throughout Colombia, the app was reportedly designed with limited early engagement from migrants themselves. Failure to substantially consult migrants in the design process, along with other barriers such as limited internet access or digital literacy, may have contributed to low adoption. For example, staff working at the information and aid points for migrants in Necoclí, Colombia, near the Panamanian border, said they had not witnessed migrants scanning the advertised QR code for the app, suggesting that the app was not widely used. Moreover, the app’s future sustainability is uncertain, as funding attention has shifted to other crises. However, data from GIFMM Contigo did provide information to IOM on migrant routes.11 This data was used to construct heat maps of where people logged into the app, therefore providing insights into key transit points for migrants and where there might be a need for resources. However, there was a large discrepancy between user numbers from the app and migration data collected from Colombian authorities or the transport companies (boats, buses) moving migrants to Panama and within Colombia, suggesting that the usage data did not reveal the full picture of migration routes in Colombia.12

Related apps such as MigApp (IOM’s global migration information tool), AccessRC by the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC), and the Swiss Red Cross’s Sui SRK serve similar informational roles, but in distinct geographic or operational contexts. Although MigApp has been available since 2017, it only has approximately 50,000 downloads according to Google Play Store data (AccessRC has similar download statistics). These apps do not directly compete but highlight a recurring issue in humanitarian innovation: multiple organizations independently developing similar tools for different contexts, rather than building interoperable, scalable solutions.

Another example of apps offering direct services to migrants and refugees is RedSafe by the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), which allows displaced persons to securely store important documents and access vital information. It is freely available, and unlike other apps for migrants (like MigApp) that have existed for a similar time frame, RedSafe has over 500,000 downloads, suggesting it meets a tangible user need. RedSafe offers a package of services beyond safe document storage, including information on migration and how to locate family members. Although the higher number of app downloads compared to other apps suggests that it better meets end user needs, independent of geography and region, it’s unclear whether RedSafe was more successful simply due to other factors like better marketing. Moreover, it is dependent on organizational ownership and funding for maintenance, which still leaves it at risk of failure if the organizational priorities shift.

By contrast, operational tools for humanitarian organizations such as KoboToolbox and Open Data Kit (ODK) both evolved from their open source roots to become widely adopted platforms for mobile data collection. KoboToolbox operates under a hybrid financing model, combining non-profit grant funding (approximately 70 percent) with subscription revenue (around 30 percent) from paid services like cloud hosting, analytics, and training. ODK remains fully open source and community-maintained, with additional paid hosting and support services offered commercially. Both tools have achieved over one million downloads and are used by tens of thousands of organizations worldwide. Their success is linked to addressing a broadly recurring operational need—simplifying data collection and management—which is less subject to donor funding cycles and project-based volatility.

Supply-Driven vs. Demand-Driven Innovation

The landscape of humanitarian mobile applications reveals a complex interplay between innovation narratives, user needs, funding models, donors, and organizational priorities. At first glance, the proliferation of apps targeting migrants and refugees alongside operational tools for humanitarian actors suggests a sector rich in creative digital solutions. Yet, beneath this lies a deeper tension between supply-driven and demand-driven innovation—a tension that shapes not only how these tools are developed, but also their long-term viability and impact.

Apps designed to serve migrants and refugees often emerge from immediate humanitarian crises or donor mandates. These supply-driven innovations are understandably reactive, aiming to address pressing challenges within constrained timeframes and budgets. While such urgency can catalyze rapid development and deployment, it also risks sidelining critical questions: Who exactly are the end users, and how do their lived realities influence adoption? What are the genuine needs versus perceived needs shaped by funding priorities? Without sustained engagement with beneficiaries, these apps may struggle to achieve meaningful traction. Their usage can remain limited, and overlapping functionalities across different organizational tools reveal a fragmented ecosystem. This reflects a deeper structural issue: humanitarian organizations working in parallel with insufficient coordination, each seeking to address similar challenges in isolation. Combined with project-based, donor-dependent financing, fragmentation often leaves these applications vulnerable to obsolescence once initial funding cycles end.

In contrast, operational tools such as KoboToolbox and ODK exemplify a more demand-driven innovation pathway. They emerge from the recurring, systemic needs of humanitarian actors to efficiently collect and manage data. Their open-source or hybrid business models foster broad collaboration and adaptability, allowing them to evolve in response to diverse contexts. The relatively stable funding mix—including subscriptions and donor grants—offers a pathway toward a sustainability that is uncommon in humanitarian digital innovation. These tools’ success may ultimately lie in their focus on enduring operational pain points rather than transient crisis-specific needs, demonstrating the value of scalability and adaptability.

Yet, these distinctions between supply- and demand-driven approaches should not be viewed as rigid categories, but rather as points along a continuum. Innovation often unfolds in unpredictable ways. Historical examples, such as the rise of smartphones and later the proliferation of mobile applications, illustrate how technologies can diffuse widely even without a clearly articulated or immediate user need. Early skepticism of smartphones and mobile applications that we now take for granted gave way to transformative shifts in communication, access to information, and social interaction. This suggests that some humanitarian mobile apps—while initially appearing niche or underutilized—might gain traction over time as ecosystems mature, user familiarity grows, and complementary services develop. Such evolution requires patience, iterative development, and sustained investment—luxuries that are often scarce in humanitarian settings.

This brings us back to the critical challenge of “pilotitis.” The relative ease and low upfront cost of developing mobile apps tempt organizations to launch numerous pilots without committing to long-term maintenance or integration. Many projects fail to budget for ongoing updates, user support, or iterative improvements, leading to an overabundance of short-lived innovations that fade as soon as initial enthusiasm or funding wanes. The humanitarian sector’s reliance on donor funding for app development—which is ethically important to protect vulnerable populations from the commercialization of their data or exposure to surveillance—paradoxically reinforces this cycle by tying innovation to shifting priorities and grant cycles rather than stable revenue streams.

The success of platforms like Kobo and ODK hints at possibilities for hybrid funding mechanisms that combine grant support with revenue-generating services, such as subscriptions or technical assistance. Such models might provide the financial resilience necessary to sustain and scale digital tools. Moreover, embracing open-source development fosters community involvement, distributed innovation, and adaptability—qualities well suited to the complex, varied environments of humanitarian work. However, the contrast between Kobo and ODK and the apps providing services to refugees and migrants highlights a particular problem in the humanitarian sector: there is often a difference between who “benefits” from an innovation and who “pays.”13 This is particularly relevant as the beneficiaries of a humanitarian innovation will often not have the means to “pay” for it.14 More importantly, this difference between payer or funder and end beneficiary or user is relevant when scaling up innovations as well as in the design process. There can be a tension between what a funder wants and what is actually useful to an end beneficiary.15

The question of how to fund mobile applications when users are unable or unwilling to pay for the services offered on a mobile application is not isolated to the humanitarian sector. While subscription-based services are the most common funding mechanism for traditional mobile applications, recent data shows that only 0.1 percent of active mobile app users end up paying for a subscription.16 Converting users to paid users in a traditional business environment is already challenging, and in a humanitarian context, expecting migrants or refugees to pay for services is unrealistic.

More fundamentally, the humanitarian sector might benefit from shifting its innovation mindset from project-centric, supply-driven launches toward a user-centered, systems-thinking approach. This means involving beneficiaries in co-design processes to ensure tools reflect real needs and contextual realities. It also requires collaborative frameworks that discourage duplication and encourage interoperability, reducing wasted effort and fostering knowledge sharing across organizations.

In this speculative light, the future of humanitarian mobile innovation lies not merely in the creation of new apps but in cultivating ecosystems where tools can evolve, mature, and integrate sustainably. It calls for balancing ethical imperatives, practical realities, and innovative financing while embracing the uncertainty inherent in technological diffusion. By reimagining how innovation is conceived, funded, and sustained, the humanitarian sector can transcend the limitations of short-term pilots and fragmented efforts. These efforts and investments should, however, not conceal the reality that mobile applications, while having a potential to increase efficiency and propose new services, will only contribute marginally to solving the numerous challenges faced by people affected by humanitarian crises and those working in humanitarian organizations. But through reimagining innovation, mobile applications can become more enduring tools that truly empower both humanitarian actors and the vulnerable populations they serve.