Posts from the ‘Philanthropy education’ Category
August 13th, 2019
Originally posted on 31 May 2011; slightly revised. Over the years, it has been one of the most read and popular posts and most of it is still quite applicable today.
When this post was first written, it was during my 11th year teaching philanthropists and foundation professionals in special university offerings. This post was one of a series of reflections on a decade of teaching funders at the oldest and most comprehensive university program of its kind. Sadly, NYU’s Academy for Funder Education no longer exists. Happily, UPenn’s Center for High Impact Philanthropy
The very first course I taught was one of the first three offered by NYU’s Center for Philanthropy, and was intended to introduce fundraisers to the other side of the table. It was entitled “Do you want to work in a foundation?” At the time I was still heading a now closed foundation and was able to host the entire course at the elegant offices of that foundation.
Much to the surprise of the then new NYU Center [now closed], a large percentage of the attendees were already working in a foundation and were anxious to build a knowledge base. In subsequent articles and postings, I will expand on what we teach, why, how it has developed over the past decade, and more. However, here, I would like to return to that very first question.
Interestingly enough, that question was quite prescient – albeit in an unintended way… it is in fact a question I am asked, one way or another, on a regular basis. After all, what could be better than giving money away? Surely it must be better to give money than to raise it. What follows are some of the responses I give during these “informational interview” type meetings.
A. Are you temperamentally suited to do this work? This seems like a strange question but many people have unrealistic expectations about what giving money away entails:
Are you prepared to say “no” much more than you can ever say “yes?” Any funder, volunteer or professional, is well aware that one has to reject a very high percentage of requests. [That is true for all of us, but the difference between an individual simply discarding all of the unsolicited fundraising requests and an institutional funder is that many of those requests are consistent with the funder’s stated mission and part of our job. There are simply too many.] This, as most funders will tell you, is much harder and more demanding than it may appear.
Are you prepared to be a walking dollar sign? Once one is identified as being a funder or a gatekeeper, it is absolutely guaranteed that every social event will become an opportunity for a veiled solicitation. Years ago, the day that it was announced that I was going to head a foundation, Mirele and I were at a reception. On the way home, she said, “we had better learn not to become cynical.” All evening people lobbied her to lobby me for their pet projects. I can assure you that to this day, as soon as someone finds out what I do, I am solicited. It may be the first or third paragraph, but it is absolutely predictable that it will happen. One has to have the temperament and judgment to know who is a friend and who is an opportunist [albeit with the very best intentions].
Are you prepared to have someone else take the bow for your success? If you are a responsible foundation professional, your job is to enable someone or some organization do what you are funding. They may thank you, but the credit for the success of the project quite properly should be theirs. Is your ego sufficiently in check so that all of your hard work can be someone else’s reward? If one is used to being the programmer or executive of a non-profit, it is quite an adjustment to assume a supporting cast role [important but still supporting.]
Are you prepared to have almost no measurable way to determine if you are dong a good job? After all, a fundraiser knows that more money was raised or more donors gave. But a foundation professional has little say in how much is given in total each year. And the number of grants given is hardly a measure of the effectiveness of the foundation’s strategy. Ironically, at a time when funders are looking for outcome measures from their grantees, it is at least as difficult to measure the success of a program officer’s work. If you get your satisfaction by meeting or exceeding objective measures, you aren’t likely to find the work of grantmaking to be as gratifying.
Are you comfortable with spending a lot of time doing office work? Much of the work of professional grantmaking involves reading proposals, checking out the non profit, writing up board and staff summaries, and keeping current with the fields in which funding takes place. Only a small percentage is “out there”.
B. These questions are not to discourage but to add a bit of reality to what is often a too romanticized career. If though, you feel that these questions still leave you excited, there are some additional considerations.
Do you need to work? If you do, planning a career working for a foundation is not a statistically reliable career plan. There are simply too few jobs. But of course they do exist. As this list will show, it is advisable to think more generically than simply looking at traditional private and independent foundations.
The large foundations typically hire those with content expertise, and assume that they will send their staff to our courses, or teach how to be a funder in-house. Very rarely will they look to hire philanthropy generalists. If you want to work in the big-name foundations, the best way is to make sure that your professional and academic training are in line with their giving priorities. Medium and smaller foundations are more likely to hire a generalist, but realistically, only rarely do these positions get posted.
There are many other opportunities to use these generic skills. Big umbrella charities [e.g., United Way, Catholic Charities, Jewish Federations, American Cancer Society, Donor Advised Funds, etc.] all need allocation specialists whose job is quite similar to a foundation program officer. Once the money is raised, these professionals play a crucial role in the effectiveness of these large and well-established organizations.
State and municipal entities have grants programs in arts, humanities, public affairs, etc. which also call for similar skills. [When this was first written, this was more true than today.]
There are a growing number of outsource firms and consulting firms which provide grants management and leadership for funders. Some are full service, others niche players. The skills and competencies which are called for are much the same as a foundation officer, but one step removed.
C. While no one can guarantee a grantmaking position, there are steps one can take to enhance one’s competitive position:
If you are not in the sector, it is very useful to serve on a non-profit board to learn something about the way decisions are made.
Attend public lectures about trends in philanthropy so that one can learn the terms and categories of the field. This is not simply a matter of learning the lingo; it is also demonstrates that the way in which funders approach questions may be quite different than the way other professions do.
Take courses. This recommendation may sound self-serving, but if one’s professional background is close and one’s experience is relevant, taking courses can help round out one’s competitiveness [to say nothing of adding crucial knowledge].
Network. There is no better way to get on short lists of candidates, especially for small to medium sized foundations, than to hear of positions through networking. [Please remember that all the networking in the world won’t help if you don’t have other credentials or relevant experience.]
Win the lottery. The only guaranteed way that you can work in grantmaking is to have your own money.
Is this all sobering? It is supposed to be since so many of those with whom I meet have less than realistic understandings of what they would do all day as full time funders.
Having said that, being a funder, professional or volunteer, can be one of the most gratifying ways in which one can spend one’s life. One can indeed make a difference, usually in small yet meaningful ways, occasionally in larger and influential ways. And one can take pleasure in knowing that, every day, one is helping to shape the character and values of our society. What can be better than that!
June 26th, 2018
Philanthropy education matters to me – a lot. So, not surprisingly, when WINGS-Worldwide Initiative for Grantmaking Support, an international organization of which we are members, undertook a careful look at what is universal or generic vs what is culturally specific, I recommended that one of the ways to get at this is to develop international philanthropy education standards.
Over 16 years ago, when I was invited by NYU to develop a university based professional certificate program, I consulted with the organizations that defined the philanthropy field at that time. There was a remarkable consensus on what a funder, any funder, should know. And thus, with their participation, we developed a set of core competencies as a basis for the certificate credential. [In retrospect, I recognize that my evangelism for the importance of philanthropy education and certification did not have the same priority for those original partners, some of whom expressed exasperation with my impatience. On the chance that some are reading this, my apologies. It has taught me about the mistakes one can make in making assumptions about a sustaining partnership.]
Those concepts, regularly adapted and updated, have been the underpinning of the part of my career as a philanthropy educator. While only a part of my involvement in this field, that educational role has led me to speak and teach in 39 countries, taught funders from 26 countries at NYU and Penn, and has included funders of all types and inclinations.
The core concepts the field developed in 2002 and updated regularly since still make sense. But, make no mistake, they need to be contextualized for every situation. Scandinavia is not Latin America, and neither is Spain like China. Moreover, family funders are all different even as they are all the same. If one appears to be only US-centric, or oblivious to local laws, history, and culture, it will be hard to get to the underlying universal aspects that define decision making.
A recent exchange with the Ben Bellegy, executive director of WINGS, emphasized the complexity of nomenclature. [Our educational arm, Wise Philanthropy Institute, is a member of WINGS.] Our conversation was about the centrality and necessity of educational competencies and credentialing as an integral component to an international infrastructure supporting philanthropy. He responded that, in his view, US philanthropy is qualitatively different than in the rest of the world. He argued that in the USA, our primary emphasis is on grantmaking, while in the rest of the world that is often only an incidental component.
As I have thought about his observation, I have been struck by how much of his observation is not philanthropy behavior per se but about nomenclature. For example, the word “foundation” can have very different legal meanings and therefore radically different ground rules. “Non-profits” and “Non-governmental” organizations are not necessarily synonymous. Not only are they often different kinds of legal entities, depending where one is, but imply very different concepts of what is “normal” and what is “non-…” normal.
Mr. Bellegy’s concern was that using grantmaking competencies as a basis for internationally endorsed credentials is far too American centric. As I thought about it, I realized that I myself had not been using the “grantmaking” label for several years but not because of its American-centrism. I found it too constricting to describe what we do and what we teach. Philanthropy is about a vision of society, an understanding of the totality of ways in which voluntarism can influence the public weal and public policy and engage civil society toward its betterment. Some of that is through traditional grantmaking, but that hardly describes the totality. Different funders will choose a different balance of how they use their own resources, of course, but most use a robust combination. Moreover, the role of how that manifests is very dependent on local culture, history, ethos, and law. In highly taxed, socially supportive societies like most of Scandinavia, the role of philanthropy will be very different that in the USA which only begrudgingly provides educational and human service support to its citizens.
In truth, while much of what we teach might be called grantmaking, at bottom it is about making choices. If we are competent at teaching competencies, those whom we and others teach are better able to make wiser, informed, and ethical decisions about the abundance of challenges and choices before us. Much of that has to do with allocating funds, but it also has to do with advocacy, creativity, influence, convening, leadership, values, and empowerment. Those are universal characteristics of the field of philanthropy, and not restricted to any one nation, region, or religion.
Having said that, cultures do differ. Laws differ. Histories differ. Politics differ. Families differ. To say that there are universal categories that define all philanthropy is too facile. Unless one honors the differences and the contexts in which those differences play out, one can never comfortably or credibly get to the generic range of choices.
Some years ago, I was honored to be invited to conduct an all-day workshop for 100 philanthropists from around the world. No Americans were invited except for me as the facilitator. The subject matter was trends in family philanthropy, and best practices in succession – what some call “next-gen”. At the end of the day, the chair who was from South Africa stated that before we started, he was skeptical that there was anything to learn. However, as the day progressed, he said, he realized that everything I and others talked about described his own family. He had never realized that their own challenges were generic and universal. He was somewhat liberated to know that his family was not the only one facing certain challenges, but that he also realized that his own community challenges required that he approach those challenges with both a general perspective and local sensiTIvIty. He got the message.
I still believe in the indispensability of philanthropy education as a core component of our sector’s credibility and potential. But as this exchange suggests, just agreeing on terms and nomenclature is itself a challenge, and that is even before we agree on the content of the education. The challenge for WINGS, and for all of us who work and act in this sphere is to learn how to articulate and distinguish what is exclusively local, and what is in fact generic. Some of that has to do with nomenclature, some of it has to do with knowledge. Most of all, it has to do with finding ways to help our sector so that we accomplish the impact and the good that we all stand for.
May 7th, 2018
Quite frequently, when I speak at an investment related conference, I am asked about what a philanthropy advisor does, and how one chooses among us. Not so surprising that I am asked since, after all, philanthropy is why I am invited to speak. What is surprising is how many don’t realize that there are those of us with this expertise.
In choosing, there are many subjective factors, of course, such as compatibility, but there are also substantial differences in what one does, how one does it, and what the business models are. Periodically, it is useful to give some perspective to new readers, and remind older ones, to help you make appropriate choices.
Some of what I do professionally is to advise funders, philanthropists, families, and philanthropists in their philanthropy decision-making priorities and style. It is a growing field and can include those from a variety of other professions: wealth management, trust and estates, family systems, content expertise, family offices, non-profit management, and more, as well as those of us with extensive background in the philanthropy sector on the funder side. Since there are no barriers to entry, it is very much “caveat emptor” – let the buyer beware. Does the advisor know about and have experience in philanthropy, or about the finances of philanthropy, or about family issues, or about the fields that are a funder’s priorities?
Even among those of us with extensive and relevant professional background, there are a wide variety of business models: Some charge straight fees, some a percentage of assets or giving, some prefer retainer arrangements, some a smorgasbord of services – pay as you go. And more, I am sure. Each business model has its legitimacy, but it is important for any funder to fully understand what they are, how they compare, and ultimately, what is best for the funder. [To take our firm as one illustration: we only provide advisory services on strategy, evaluation, and inter-generation matters; we charge on a project-fee basis, determined by how long a project is estimated to take; and we do not accept any management or retainer contracts. Our model is perfect for funders who want an independent advisor who has no longer-term agenda beyond what we offer, but it is not very appropriate for someone looking for “full service,” or ongoing management of their philanthropy or a part time program officer or an impact investment guru.]
Having determined the relevant expertise, it is also useful to learn something about our methodologies. Most good advisors will probably get you where you need to be, but we may not all get you there the same way. We should be able to articulate why we do it the way we do and show you how our method can be implemented in your situation both during the “process” and after. Not so good advisors give you advice that gathers dust.
My final point is a bit of a nit-pick. Some use the term “philanthropic advisor” and others “philanthropy advisor.” I have a strong preference for the latter. After all, I would hope that any and all of us in this field, and many other fields, are philanthropic. We should all be philanthropic, generous with our time and money, as are many with totally unrelated expertise. But to be a “Philanthropy” Advisor should mean that we bring expertise, experience, and perspective to the services we provide.
Our field is responsible for granting and investing billions of dollars, sustaining an entire sector, influencing public policy, and visioning more equitable societies. I certainly hope we are philanthropic, but even more that we are experts in the humbling and even sacred work of philanthropy. Any client deserves no less.
February 26th, 2018
If you are a wealth advisor [or relationship manager, or any of a myriad of other titles for managing other people’s investments], you have seen the studies. Year after year, they consistently show that your clients may be pleased with the investment service you give them, but, as a rule, they don’t believe you are up to speed with your philanthropy advising. Moreover, they consistently show a disconnect between your self-perceptions and those of your clients.
There are numerous explanations:
1. For many, the simple answer is that it isn’t your job. Your job is to maximize value in a trusted relationship with your client. You make them as much money as you can according to a predetermined risk factor and anticipated longevity. Your compensation is based on money under management. [we’ll return to this point in a moment.]
You have no objection to philanthropy as an objective, and indeed are delighted when wealthy clients establish foundations or trusts so you can provide investment services to those entities, a win-win solution. Thus, you gladly have a “philanthropy” conversation, but all too typically as an investment vehicle.
But ultimately philanthropy is not an investment vehicle but represents money out the door for social good. It isn’t what you are trained or paid to do so it doesn’t occupy a lot of planning time. You may discuss the idea of philanthropy, especially vis a vis taxes [see #2] but your expertise rarely extends to how to spend the money to accomplish a social good. Clients who want a constructive conversation on philanthropy are often disappointed because, for them, philanthropy is what good they might do with the money they have made, not how they invest it.
2. Many wealth advisors do discuss philanthropic vehicles, but all too often only as a tax reduction or avoidance strategy. Where your clients spend it isn’t your concern, but properly structured, philanthropy can certainly reduce the tax burden. Indeed, l have heard multiple wealth advisors brag how they can use philanthropy to get their clients’ taxes down to $0. [Long time readers know how I feel about that!]
Studies have consistently shown, though, that tax savings is not a primary motivator for being philanthropic or altruistic. Taxes and tax savings may influence the specifics of how one structures ones giving, but if one isn’t altruistic or generous, it won’t be any more – or less – satisfying than any other tax reduction vehicle. But those who do want to be altruistic ultimately have a different set of concerns and questions, and whether to set up a trust or a private foundation or a DAF or even an LLC may be real solutions, but only as long as they are solutions to the real questions a client wishes answered. Yes, the vehicles matter, but they satisfy clients only if they reflect the values they want conveyed through them.
Philanthropy is ultimately not about maximizing value but maximizing values. So, as many very well-intentioned wealth advisors and trust attorneys do, simply asking about philanthropic interests and presenting structural alternatives without a deep understanding how philanthropy works is not satisfying to a client.
3. The next challenge is a very legitimate legal and structural issue. You are required to define who is your client and have a legally defined trusted relationship with that client. Often, though, philanthropic planning is a multi-generational matter. Even if the client is the only one expressing interest to you, without understanding the functional dynamics of a family, a perfectly legal and efficient solution may be far from efficacious and even counterproductive down the road.
Don’t misunderstand. I am well aware that many of you do try hard to establish relationships with the others in a family, some very successfully. But even then, most members of the family know to whom you are ultimately responsible and can sense your primary loyalty. [After a lot of years in this business, I can report that there are many foundations and trusts that handcuff or disempower or even antagonize surviving family members because the founder’s attorney did what was legally required but strategically flawed.]
This structural dilemma matters because only a very few people of wealth ever look beyond their wealth advisor or estate attorney for philanthropy advice. As one who speaks frequently at conferences for family offices and wealth managers, I regularly find myself meeting those of wealth or their advisors who express surprise that there are those of us whose expertise is philanthropy per se, and not money managers who happen to specialize in managing philanthropic assets.
Which brings me to the two key takeaways of this piece:
4. What do philanthropy advisors do – and how wealth advisors can collaborate with them?
Philanthropy advisors help their clients [individuals, foundations, families, and other entitles that distribute money] make good, informed, and ethical decisions. A philanthropy advisor can help determine what a funder’s goals and values are, whom they want involved in their decision or legacy, what style of giving is most consistent and meaningful, and what impact they want their giving to have, and for whom. Some advisors are “full service” – supporting every stage in the process including decision making and back office support; others are specialists in one or another area along the continuum such as strategy or family systems or evaluation or are specialists in a particular content area.
Very rarely do philanthropy advisors manage a client’s money.
Therefore, philanthropy advisors are rarely your competitors. On the contrary, they can be partners or collaborators who can help you do your job better. That collaboration can work so the services provided to a client can be seamless.
Most philanthropy advisors define a “client” as the entire family or the entire foundation. It is quite common that, to do their job, a philanthropy advisor may need to challenge the stated priorities and assumptions of the “founder”. It may not always be comfortable – for the founder or the other professionals, but it may be the optimal long-term way to go.
Experience has taught me to add a caveat to wealth advisors: philanthropy advisors are usually at the end of the financial food chain and rarely are they a source of investment business for wealth mangers. The reason for collaboration is not to get new business but to serve your clients’ full range of needs and interests more effectively.
5. What can wealth advisors learn about their investment approaches from the philanthropy world?
For well over a decade, the philanthropy/foundation world has been absorbed by the idea of “impact.” Why spend money, however well intentioned, if at the end of the day it doesn’t reduce poverty or illness or illiteracy or homelessness…? Results matter.
A derivative corollary to that is that there can and should be an alignment between how one spends one’s money and how one earns it. If one wishes to reduce illness or pollution, it is surely very dubious that investments in fossil fuels or tobacco make very much sense.
In the philanthropy sphere, this is not new. It has been discussed and finely honed for quite a while, and there are robust answers at every philanthropy, family office, and investment conference. There is now a maturity of the field, a growing range of credible options, and a conviction that impact and values-based investing need not be an outlier in any viable philanthropy investment strategy.
Here is the emerging news: What works for funders and foundations can work for individual investors as well. Many, especially but not restricted to younger funders, are beginning to ask about values-based funds or approaches beyond the philanthropy realm. Far too many money managers still think of these approaches as financial compromises or outside of mainstream investing. If a money manager resists, you may be sure that others are eager for the business. [In our own case, we made it clear to a money manager with whom we were working that that we were prepared to change because she tried to dissuade us from values-based investing. She studied up, learned a bunch of things that surprised her, and withdrew her objections.]
Those of us in the philanthropy sector have been at this for over a decade. Impact investment isn’t a panacea, and not every approach is a slam dunk, but alignment of values and investment should be a no brainer for every investor. And if you are a wealth advisor and need help understanding how this can work for your clients, I know a lot of folks in the philanthropy sector who would be happy to help.
A number of readers have asked for more specific recommendations how wealth advisors and philanthropy advisors can collaborate. Please contact us directly for a “how-to” list of several proven ways..
November 15th, 2017
I recently had the pleasure of meeting a very respected colleague in our philanthropy field. He and I are contemporaries, but I daresay he is better known than I, a detail of some relevance to this post.
Our conversation veered into observations about developments in and the state of our field. For many reasons it is growing, there is both consolidation and expansion at the same time, there are those pushing philanthropic giving into more assertive spaces, there is a recognition of both the expansive capacity and the severe limits of what philanthropy can accomplish, and, for both of us, a sense that not everything that is purported to be new really is.
About that last point: Both of us have been in the field long enough to find others “discovering” things that we had, ourselves, done or written about a long time ago. We are both bemused that the eureka discoveries are simply rediscovering what so many have said before. There is an admitted ambivalence in seeing these things: we could constantly post corrective references to our own writings and accomplishments – to remind folks of our contributions to the field of philanthropy learning, or, alternatively we can accept that everyone needs to learn philanthropy practice in his or her own way, at her or his own pace, and it is ok for them to claim discovery.
As a quondam university educator, I learned very early on, that, for students, if they didn’t see it, it didn’t happen. It mattered not that a year or 5 or 10 or 20 years earlier, other students had planned the same activity, studied the same text, written the same insights. The very process of learning those same things is indispensable to education. Otherwise, I came to understand, one would have a hard time justifying teaching Aristotle very year! So as tempting as it was to tell the students what their predecessors did wrong or right, and it would have been so much more efficient to have done so, it would have been a counter-productive disempowerment. It took more of my time and patience, but the long-time result was far superior.
So, as I said, my better-known colleague and I have learned to smile knowingly, hold our tongues, and keep silent as others take bows for their “innovations” and “insights.” Probably as it should be.
But perhaps not always. It is one thing for individuals to learn anew what comprise best practices, how not to abuse the power imbalance, and the challenge of saying “no” to so many. But it is something quite different to find a shocking absence of institutional memory among the many organizations and affinity groups in our field. One of the costs of the absence of institutional memory is forgetting that our field matters, and always has. We are responsible, collectively, for billions of dollars, an entire sector, and a great deal of public policy. We are not the sole supporters, the sole influences, and the sole determiners of public policy. But we do matter.
Institutional memory should be in play when challenges to the public weal are prevalent; when civility has become a rare and precious commodity in public discourse; when public policy is set by the highest bidder. Only our field has the independence to call it out. We have the independence – and I would say the responsibility – to advocate for decency, support for the most vulnerable, the interconnectedness of our policies with our funding priorities. This is not a new role for philanthropy: most of the patriarchs [yes, most but certainly not all were men] in our field understood this. Whatever their motivations and personal histories, they came to understand that polity requires civility, that civility requires equity, and that equity is only possible with the financial resources to make it so.
Institutional memory would have saved the time and money needed to hold summits to address what many have said before, what many have said long before my colleague and I said these things. Our advocacy and involvement in public policy are not new, and not only brought about by the current fragile state of our democracy, but have always been there. And we have paid a price as many have been reluctant or slow to speak, advocate, connect the dots, and recognize our unique mandate.
As funders, we engage in our own strategies, struggle with our own decisions, look for tools to enhance the impact of our philanthropic dollars. Maybe not easy, exactly, but absorbing and demanding. Sufficiently so that we may lose sight that we are always, by definition, playing in a larger sphere. Our decisions don’t only decide what worthy group or organization or city gets funded, but also what doesn’t. And writ large, our decisions say something important about what our public policies should look like, and which sector should have which responsibilities.
Advocacy matters. Why? Because, while philanthropy does matter, a lot, it never has and never will have the resources to solve systemic problems alone. Indeed, there is no systemic challenge that does not require a public policy commitment. It is wrong to allow politicians to deflect responsibility to the voluntary sector to solve such problems, and it is equally wrong for our sector to choose to ignore our mandate to keep educating political forces of their responsibility to the citizenry.
As one who has been educating philanthropists and foundation folk for almost 2 decades, I am never surprised that those in our field have to learn and re-learn basics of the laws [they differ depending where in the world one lives], ethics, and best practices that make us thoughtful and responsible funders. That is why we teach what we do, and it helps guarantee that our field continues to develop standards of excellence, and behaviors built on humility and an understanding of our power imbalance.
But best practices are not the same as understanding the uniqueness of our potential in shaping a larger society based on values. For that, we need to understand our roles at a more basic and profound level. We matter because we are advocating by our decisions, whether we intend to or not. We owe it to ourselves, our field, and our communities to do so with greater intention.
September 15th, 2015
Years ago, when I started teaching funders, grantmakers, philanthropists, and foundation professionals, grantmaking ethics was one of the core subjects. My goal was and continues to be to help funders navigate the line, often porous, between the law, ethics, and best practices. What I knew from experience both as an individual funder [relatively modest though that may be] and as the ceo of a major foundation, is that most of us in the field had had very little formal training in navigating this area. Along the way I saw that there are some willful violators to be sure, but more typically, funders really do mean well and violate ethical standards more out of naiveté or innocence.
The more I taught this area, the more evident that the issue of power underlies a good deal of this and thus the need for teaching greater “conscious use of self” in the interface between those who want money and those who have it or access to it. Not a big surprise to most of us, I am sure, but providing methodologies and practices for dealing with what, for many, is a daily challenging reality has proven helpful.
In recent years this has become an in-demand topic for me to present at conferences, in keynote presentations, and for invitational workshops. Moreover, foundations on whose boards I sit and others have sought my counsel. [I only wish that some of them had consulted before they had to solve a problem.] And while I am glad and flattered to do this, it has caught me a bit by surprise. Frankly, I had always felt that ethics, law, and best practices are such a basic core competence that anyone who learned about grantmaking would have already mastered it or at least been adequately sensitized. Apparently not, and thus this post which will provide bullet points of a limited sampling of what we explore in greater depth during seminars, classes, or presentations. It seems that I have become a philanthro-ethicist.
Ethics and the Law:
For the purposes of this post, I am restricting my comments to US Law. As one who has had a good deal of experience with philanthropists and foundations in many countries, I am well aware that the particularities of US philanthropy law are not widely shared. Nevertheless, some key elements of US law are suggestive of how to develop universally accepted best ethical practice. [Please note that there are variations in State laws as well; as they like to say in the small print disclaimers, nothing in this article should be perceived as explicit legal advice, only guidelines for thinking about how to set good policy and practice.]
In the US, private foundations are a unique hybrid. They have many of the legal rights and responsibilities of other not-for-profit entities, but they are subject to certain restrictions and privileges not applicable to public charities. In exchange for a degree of control over board, staff, investment, and grantee decisions not available to public charities, private foundations have more accountability on establishing salaries, more explicit and restrictive self-dealing and conflict of interest rules, complete transparency on where every grant dollar is given [not why, just where], and have an annual tax on earnings. Some may argue with some specifics of the rules, but they do remind funders that the name on the foundation door may be yours, but the money no longer is.
At the same time, US law permits at least one unique situation where ethics and the law diverge. Anyone who establishes rules for best practice would never allow a board member to have life-time board tenure and be paid for providing professional services to that organization at the same time, but the law allows lawyers and financial managers to do just that. I suspect that there were some very effective lobbyists involved in establishing these exemptions, but they are not good practice – for any foundation.
Conflict of interest:
There is a difference between self-dealing, a financial category unequivocally forbidden by the law, and conflict of interest which in most States is subject to the judgment of a board of directors. A few key points:
Every organization should mandate that every board and staff member file a “conflict of interest statement” at least annually detailing potential financial and governance issues where he or she may have competing interests. One hopes that this is a virtually universal practice by now. What many boards forget to do, though, is act on those statements. Merely having those statements on file does not advise either the board or the filer whether that reported COI represents a problematic or de-minimus conflict. There should be a record of a properly designated committee of the board [perhaps the executive committee] minuting its decisions. It avoids all sorts of potential problems down the line.
Many boards are at a loss about what is valid, fair, and ethical in the area of whether or not it is appropriate to sit on the board of a grantee organization. In my opinion, the simplest rule of thumb should be appearance: if your foundation makes competitive grants in a variety of locales, the foundation should err on the side of a more restrictive policy. If your foundation exclusively does place based funding of the same core local organizations every year, there is little likelihood of misinterpreting the dual roles and therefore I would endorse a more lenient policy. [Happy to talk directly to those of you with specific questions.]
Ethics of Funder Behavior: Transparency
Every foundation should make its guidelines and application public. It is perfectly legal and ethical for a foundation not to accept any unsolicited proposals. It is perfectly legal and ethical to have strict limits and guidelines on where and for what purposes grants will be given. It may be bad practice for this information to be hidden away, but it is unethical for these blanket statements to apply only to some potential beneficiaries. In other words, foundations can legitimately have multiple processes and even differing guidelines – but it should not be an inscrutable mystery to know what is what.
Timelines for decisions should also be transparent. Foundations and individual funders have no obligation whatsoever to make decisions within any particular timeline, but if a grant request is submitted and is being considered, the seeker should know when a decision will be rendered, and be informed forthwith.
The field has real internal disagreements about what information should be shared about why decisions have been made. As long as there are no discrimination laws as stake, there is no legal issue in this. Sometimes, as I have written in more depth in other settings, there are many internal reasons for a “no” that have nothing to do with a proposal’s merit. Other times, there is constructive feedback that can improve not only a future proposal but also the proposed program itself. Judgment will rule about how much information to share and in what form, but in any case, it is most appropriate to share information that will be of use to the organization. Therefore, ethics mandates that it is better to say nothing than to lead a potential grantee on about future opportunities, or to give misleading feedback about the proposal. [For those interested in this subject, in addition to my previous postings, please see the websites of NCRP, GEO, and the Foundation Center for more extended discussion.]
Ethics of Funder Behavior: Potential Grantees
Funders realize that they are in a power imbalance with those who want funds. It is hard not to. Whether one is the principal or a representative [e.g., foundation staff], being a walking dollar sign in every room is our norm. How one reacts, though, is where ethics enters the picture. Here are a few examples:
Asking for favors: Sad to say, some funders assume that a charitable gift is an open ended purchase of a personal benefit, such as seats or priority access. While the law, and best practices, limit or forbid such quid pro quo unless it is related to the gift itself, no one in our field is so blind or naïve to think that it doesn’t happen…which doesn’t make it right. Those who have foundations should be aware that there are different laws for foundations and individuals. Foundations have stricter legal parameters on this issue, but the ethics are the same. As a straightforward way to think about the ethics of one’s behavior: There is a difference between recognition connected to a contribution vs. asking for personal favors simply because you have been a funder.
Site Visits: A site visit can be one of the most effective tools of due diligence a funder can utilize. It affords a look at and feel for a potential grantee in a way that reading a document, a proposal, a 990, or other material cannot do. A well organized and planned site visit can be indispensible in helping to make a decision.
From an ethics perspective, that very last phrase is key – helping to make a decision. If there is no decision to be made, or a funder simply thinks it would be “interesting” to stop by a non-profit of his or her choosing, please think twice. [Of course, I am not talking about institutions that are open to the public.] Remember that a visit by a funder can be disruptive. Staff are told to clean their desks or dress a little more formally and program staff may be called away from their primary work. Sure, in a university or a large museum, there are enough development staff that the disruption will be minor, but in smaller and more direct service organizations there are genuine issues of confidentiality and limited personnel.
Beware of the implicit tease as well. Organizations looking for support will look for any indication of your interest. Even if you tell them you are only “looking”, from their perspective, once you see how great they are, can you not be interested in funding them? YOU have raised expectations. Don’t be surprised when the proposal arrives on your desk.
There are many more examples. The underlying ethical mandate is that a funder must have “conscious use of self”. It is funders’ [or perceived potential funders’] obligation to be aware of how they are acting and how that action may be perceived.
The Ethics of Grantmaking
We have previously discussed some of the procedural issues. These few bullet points address a much more elusive, and controversial matter, the level of influence and intervention in the relationship with a grantee.
Social Justice – Personnel Practices of the Grantee
I am well aware that not everyone agrees with the following position:
I believe that ethical grantmaking requires that funders review the personnel practices of grantees. Far too many non-profits balance their budgets on the backs of their staff. Remember, non-profit does not require, nor should it even imply, a vow of poverty. Underpaid, under-benefited, and under-recognized staff burn out and limit the long term achievement of any organization. If funders are concerned about the long term success and viability of their grantees, then ethics and social justice should require an examination of staff tenure, training, compensation, and benefits.
There is a good deal of press attention every year about the top salaries in the not-for-profit world. When salary surveys list the highest salaries, popular opinion gets outraged about the appearance of over-paying some senior executives in the sector. Required 990 tax returns ask about the highest salaries, and only about the highest salaries. Why don’t those same tax returns require listing the bottom 5 salaries? Why is there not the same righteous indignation in the press when full time employees are paid marginal salaries and a very limited benefit package?
Some funders reply that it isn’t their business; those are internal matters. My response: asking about these policies is not the same as mandating specific ones. Moreover, if funders ask only about balanced budgets and not about the human costs of balancing those budgets or what it would really cost to provide consistent high quality services, we funders are at fault when non-profits exhibit counterproductive personnel practices and resulting mediocrity in performance.
Influencing the Direction of Grantee Organizations
In recent years, the issue of funder intervention in the direction of their grantees has surfaced quite regularly, for both good reasons and bad. There is a sense in much of the philanthropy world that there are just too many non-profit organizations. I am sure that some of that is true, but I am unconvinced that it is as major a problem as some say. It does put more of an onus on us in the funder sphere to make more careful judgments and to determine what is duplication and what are appropriately different or parallel responses to different neighborhoods, stakeholder groups, etc.
One response among some funders has been to exercise some “influence” on their grantees to collaborate more and to consider mergers. Our record is mixed to say the least.
Collaborations are an interesting step in that they can test out new efficiencies, cultural alignment, synergies, and compatible expertise, and I am all in favor of funders funding experiments in functional collaborations among their grantees. Mergers, on the other hand, are existential. One or more of the organizations will cease to exist, at least in a recognizable form, after a merger. It is an ethical issue, with lots of grey around the edges, for a funder to be heavy handed in pushing mergers unless it is absolutely clear that one of the organizations will soon fold if some life saving measure isn’t taken. This is not to argue that such discussions are never appropriate, only to underscore their delicacy. They are never risk free.
Anther area where funders often make the case that they know better than their grantees is identifying changing demographics or latest best practices in a field of service. Here, too, our record is mixed. Even when a funder is objectively correct, the transformation of an existing organization to meet these new or emerging or perceived realities is not always easy. There may be years of genuine expertise at stake; there may be stakeholders who would be abandoned; there may be facilities with designated purposes that would have to be abandoned or repurposed. Here, too, this is not to suggest that there is never a time for funders to raise these issues, even forcefully at times, but that the ethics surrounding raising those issues mandates that funders must bear significant responsibility for holding organizations harmless should they be persuaded that the funder is correct – and, at least for the short term, even if they disagree.
My own hands as an executive of a foundation were not fully clean in this area. In retrospect, there were actions we took both single handedly and with partner funders which saved some organizations, helped others to prosper, and re-aligned even others. However, sad to say, there were failures as well, where it is clear that heavy-handedness by a group of funders was responsible for failures. It taught me a lot of humility, to say nothing of ethics.
The subjects raised in this post are by no means exhaustive. They are suggestive of how important ethics must be in the work that we as funders do, in the way in which we act, and in the influence that accrues to us. It appears that I have become a philanthro-ethicist – a worthy place to be.
I invite readers to feel free to let me know of additions to this list you would like me to address publicly in the future or privately immediately.
March 31st, 2015
Any veteran in our sector is familiar with the old bon mot “You’ve met one foundation, you’ve met one foundation.” When I entered the field a chunk of years ago, it was almost a mantra – kind of like saying that we all needed to find our own way in this ego-, money-, and power-driven field.
There was a certain logic to it: after all, those with enough wealth to establish a substantial foundation didn’t get that way by being like everyone else. It was hardly surprising that they wanted their foundations to be distinctive as well.
Moreover, they were used to having their own way –public accountability, collaboration, external reviews – were all conveniently disposable in a private foundation. Surely those who worked for them, even in powerful executive positions, quickly learned that the way to success was by channeling the personality of their founder/funder.
My then colleagues were quick to dismiss joint learning experiences, although they welcomed mutual support gatherings [We were all in this strange world together.] Gradually, as readers of previous posts know, I came to believe that this represented supreme arrogance. We were responsible for billions of dollars, had tremendous, often unfettered, influence, especially with grantees and aspirants, rarely needed to worry about finances, could establish funding priorities without any necessary regard to public priorities, and do all of this with but the most elementary transparency of a hard-copy 990-PF [hard to come by in the pre-Guidestar era] – and yet there was no bar to entry, no ethics courses, no registration, no certifications required to enter the field in a professional capacity.
The philanthropy world has changed a good deal since those days. Some of those changes were forced upon us by the aforementioned Guidestar visibility. Some of the changes were cultural – a new group of funders has entered the field, many from the venture capital, hedge fund, tech world, who had different training, worldview, and expectations for their money and influence. Some of the change was the inevitable result of political changes that put new expectations and pressures on the philanthropy world. Some of the changes were brought about within our sector itself – with groups like GEO, NCRP, etc. articulating clear mandates for funder and foundation excellence. Collaborations for systemic change, both within the philanthropy world and using intersector innovation have become an emerging norm. And some of the changes, I like to think, are because programs such as the NYU Academy for Grantmaking and Funder Education are available to teach philanthropists, trustees, and foundation professionals.
Given the changes in our sector, it had been a long time since I heard that old saw about “one foundation…” So I was quite surprised, and not a little sad, when a young professional in his first year working in a foundation, taking a course for new funders at the NYU Academy, told me proudly of his recent conversation with one of the senior professionals in the foundation world. What was his one takeaway from that meeting? “You’ve met one foundation, you’ve met one foundation.”
Clearly, we still have a long way to go.
April 17th, 2014
There are two predictable comments or questions I hear from almost every potential new client.
The first: “How much money does one have to have to afford you?” is the easy one. That tells me that they have been talking to other philanthropy advisors and firms, many of whom have a business model based on the asset or giving size. In my case, since I don’t accept management or retainer contracts, I only charge on a project basis – what needs to be done, who has to be involved, how much time will it take. It doesn’t matter how much you have, only how much time we think will be called for. And everyone is billed on the same rate basis. I am happy to discuss what all of this means in another context, but that isn’t the subject of this post.
The second comment is: “this is harder than we thought it would be.” It doesn’t matter whether the client is the founder or the 4th generation, whether they are doing it alone or through a foundation, whether they have articulated priorities or are “feel good” funders, whether their asset base is in the $billions or many fewer zeroes, giving money away is never as easy as it looks from the outside, or at the beginning.
When beginning ones philanthropic journey, at least on the funder side, it seems to be an ideal position to be in: one can make a difference, make people happy, and satisfy one’s charitable interests, all at the same time. But…
Who would have imagined that you suddenly have so many friends – all of whom just happen to have a project which needs funding? Or that so many people would be concerned that you can no longer afford to eat. Otherwise, how to explain all of those offers to buy you breakfast, lunch, coffee, drinks…? And it is so thoughtful for folks to offer to distract you from TV, Netflix, or other home based distractions like your family. Surely you want to attend a dinner/concert/show/lecture/parlor meeting/… every evening.
That may indeed be an adjustment, but you learn how to deal with it. That isn’t the real hard part.
The hard part is coming to grips with having to say no to so many people all the time – or deflecting them to avoid doing so. The hard part is recognizing that there really are lots of worthy and worthwhile projects – even within your areas of interest, so many more than you can or are willing to fund. The hard part is accepting that, since you are always funding the future, nothing is guaranteed. The hard part is deciding what will persuade you that a grant or investment has done enough of what it was supposed to do that you feel gratified with the result. The hard part is deciding how involved you should – or shouldn’t – be with organizations you fund. The hard part is realizing that your spouse, kids, parents, siblings may see all of this very differently than you – and may take those differences personally. The hard part is choosing between being a responsible steward of philanthropic funds you or someone else set aside to do good or with being a change agent to do even better. The hard part is that doing all of this, deciding all of this, balancing all of this, caring about all of this takes a lot more time, energy, and commitment than you imagined. The hard part is accepting how much you care.
The amazing part, though, is that there are ways of figuring all of this out, and when you start getting it right, it is worth all the hard work. And indeed, all of that work on behalf of philanthropic involvement does make a difference – because it really matters.
March 5th, 2014
This weekend I shall be returning to the Jewish Funders Network annual conference for the first time in about a decade. I will be there as a board trustee of a member foundation, not as an educator or speaker. Nevertheless, attending this year reminded me that my first presentations as a philanthropy educator were at JFN conferences about 15 years ago when I was a member and board member of that organization.
My own professional work has migrated significantly since then. Very little of my professional work is any longer in the Jewish philanthropy sphere. Yet some of those who attended my workshops back then are still wonderful friends, and some others, including, sadly, some who are no longer with us, often thanked me for helping them learn how to direct and redirect their own philanthropic strategies.
I was well aware that I was only calling upon my own experience and knowledge in organizing the content and approach of what I taught. At the time, the only places funders could turn for advancing their own knowledge were conference type settings. It was only later, when I began to develop what has now become the NYU Academy for Grantmaking and Funder Education, and subsequently, Wise Philanthropy, when I realized how inadequately trained most of us were [and many still are.] As most of you know, in 2002, with input from and collaboration with the Council on Foundations, the National Center for Family Philanthropy, the Association of Small Foundations, the Forum of Regional Associations, NYRAG [now known as PhilanthropyNY], and many others, we developed the framework and content for what the core competencies which philanthropy education should include. More about this below.
Any educator knows that education is not simply a matter of presenting information. The structure, sequence, and conceptual frameworks make the difference between episodic exchange of information [as seen at conferences and associations] and a more formalized education approach with articulated educational goals and defined outcomes.
This was brought home to me in a particularly striking way at the recent Yale Philanthropy Conference. [Kudos to the student organizers of this impressive philanthropy day. This was their 9th but only the first I have attended. One can only envy the drawing power of Yale’s SOM; every panel was comprised of name participants, many of whom would not likely have volunteered to show up at just any one day student-organized meeting.]
One pre-lunch panel was a very impressive and thoughtful discussion of alternative for- profit philanthropic investment models to accomplish public good. Indeed it would be great to have this very same panel interact with each other for at least a full half-day or more. It was at the luncheon immediately thereafter when I was reminded of the limits of conferences. At my table were several experienced funders including a senior executive from a very, very well known foundation. Those at the table asked me to explicate what we just heard. It wasn’t hard for me to do so since we cover all of this in courses I teach, but I was struck by how little absorption would have occurred had those folks not happened to sit at the same table. This is not a criticism of the YPC as much as underscoring what I have come to believe is the essential limitation of self-directed and episodic philanthropy education. A first rate panel spoke to the cognoscenti – for those of us who got it, it was a great tease and summary; for those who weren’t there yet, it was too obscure and insider. Oft-times, the reverse is true – those new to a topic are well served; the more experienced aren’t learning anything new.
A couple of years ago, a funder association told me that they didn’t wish to publicize the NYU Academy courses any longer. Their argument: they looked at the topics covered at the many Academy courses and didn’t see enough difference between what they offered their members over the course of a year so they didn’t want to advertise their competition. Alas, they missed the essential difference between updates to the field and a structured educational program. There is a need for both, absolutely, [and I attend many conferences and briefings within our philanthropy field], but they are not the same and they need not be competitive.
What were the consensus essential competencies the field identified 12 years ago which are the basis of the NYU Academy Certification program?
• History of philanthropy and philanthropic institutions in the USA, and where appropriate, elsewhere in the world. How does philanthropy intersect with public policy?
• Laws related to NFP’s, NGO’s, private foundations – especially where they differ. What makes private philanthropy a different legal model from other non-profits in the USA and elsewhere?
• Financial structures and reporting
• Power, influence, ethics, and best practices.
• Grantmaking strategies – including setting priorities, determining which strategies to use in what contexts, hat are the objective and subjective criteria to use to align with which strategies, exit strategies, etc.
• Evaluation approaches. When, how, and if to formally evaluate programs and grantees. What are various methodologies, approaches, and pre-conditions for appropriate and effective evaluations?
• Policies: Aligning investment policies with spending goals and values.
• Other policies such as conflict of interest, board succession, compensation, whistle blower, record keeping, etc.
• Communication: Oral, written, and interpersonal.
These subject areas are presented in a purposeful sequential manner, utilizing a variety of teaching methodologies, by a group of faculty with both depth and breadth of experience in the philanthropy field.
Knowing core competencies does not tell a funder where to give, what style they should have, nor what values they should bring to the table. However, knowing these competencies should go a long way to avoid well-meaning but unhelpful relations between funders and grantees, should clarify what transparency and accountability should mean, should give funders a baseline of knowledge on which funding excellence can be built
Over the years, the NYU Academy has added more advanced courses to respond to continuing unfolding issues in the field and demands from our alumni/ae. And the NYU Academy has been joined by others such as the Johnson Center, the Institute for Philanthropy, and the Cass Business School in providing high quality education to funders.
To be sure, these programs are never sufficient. One must continue to listen, learn, adapt, and modify even as, or especially as, one becomes considered an “expert.” I look back on those seminars I offered 15 years ago and during my first couple of years teaching at NYU and I am a bit embarrassed. The quality of what we provide today is in an entirely different league from what was offered then. And I certainly hope that, if I am still doing this 15 years hence, I will look back on today’s educational offerings with a similar judgment.
Just as I consulted extensively with our field 12 years ago, I invite all in our field to work together to make sure that all who are funders, who advise funders, who work for funders, or who organize funders to join in our continuing commitment to quality funder education. Our work is too important not to do so.
And, after all this time, I look forward to becoming acquainted with a whole new group of funders at next week’s JFN.
September 29th, 2013
Ever since I began teaching funders 12 years ago, then conceptualized the NYU Academy for Grantmaking and Funder Education, and subsequently the Wise Philanthropy Institute, many have sought my advice and counsel on the value of a credential in grantmaking.
My answer has always been the same. A certificate in grantmaking [from one of the 2 universities which offer them] is a value added but not a door opener. The field of philanthropy has not yet reached the stage where a credential in the field is mandatory or even widely acknowledged, and since the field is still on the relatively small side, at least for professional positions, it would be false advertising to suggest otherwise.
Moreover, the overwhelming number of people in the field – foundation professionals, wealth managers, philanthropy advisors, indeed philanthropists themselves – have no such formal training and have never been asked to get it. It is hard to make a case for the requirement of a credential if the field it is for doesn’t even know that it exists, let alone knows how to value it.
Of course, many do realize a lacuna in their own training, but often assume that a seminar at a conference or through a regional association of grantmakers is all that is available. When I was heading a foundation some years ago, and asked colleagues for assistance, the standard reply was “you’ve met one foundation, you’ve met one foundation.” Implicitly they were saying that all of us learn on our own, in our own ways, and with our own distinct and individualized approach. At the time, conferences were the best I could find, and even there, it wasn’t long before I was being asked to be an educator.
A dozen or more years ago, I came to the conclusion that this was simply wrong and have devoted a significant amount of my professional time and credibility since then to advocate that there is much to learn, and that knowledge only enhances the ability to make informed decisions and wise judgments, no matter how individualized the funding approach When I consulted with the then leadership of the Council on Foundations, the Association of Small Foundations, the National Center for Family Philanthropy, the Forum of Regional Associations, and many more, a clear consensus emerged over what the critical core competencies of grantmaking should be. They became the conceptual basis and organizational structure of the NYU Academy and over the years, many hundreds of funders from around the world have availed themselves of the many short-term course offerings. A smaller number have chosen to earn the full Certificate in Philanthropy and Grantmaking.
But until recently, I always felt that the certificate, earned after about 80 hours over 7 courses, served more to edify the learner than to satisfy the field. Over the last several months, though, I have come to a change of mind.
To be sure, I have no evidence that Certification will, at this time, open doors. However, that isn’t my main concern. What is my concern is the radical inconsistency in knowledge, training, accountability in our field and among the many who advise funders, and make significant funding decisions without core knowledge. Some of my colleagues are extraordinarily knowledgeable, informed, and set a high bar for our field. I myself continue to learn from them, and value their invariable insights, and am honored to be in the same professional field.
But I also know many who, unnecessarily, have less than satisfactory relationship with their grantees, who make less than salutary, if well intentioned, grant decisions, who misunderstand the difference between monitoring and evaluation, who assume that philanthropy fads which they hear about at conferences are universally applicable, cutting edge or replicable. And I have seen philanthropy advisors whose experience is either too narrow or whose knowledge is too shallow to warrant the claim of expertise. [Many of them can demonstrate that they have had paying clients, but that doesn’t mean that they bring core competencies to the table.]
Why does this matter? It matters because our field is growing in scope and in import. Never before has private philanthropy been more central to the ethos, vision, and potential of a society. And there are more and more people who want “in” at every level. In the absence of a credential, there is no limit as to who can hang up a shingle, no enforced discipline which guarantees that an advisor to a funder is not also in the employ of those raising money, no consistency on what various professionals can and should offer.
It also matters because most who work in the field, either as funders themselves or in their employ, do want to do well, do want to make informed decisions, would rather not have to reinvent the wheel, and want to act ethically and responsibly. Yet because there is no widely recognized credential they have no predictable way to get there, or to demonstrate that they are.
It is clear that others have also come to a conclusion that it is the time for an increase in educational offerings for funders is of value. All sorts of organizations, affinity groups, associations, etc. now offer training programs for funders. I surely don’t know about all of them, but I have spent time trying to learn as much as I can about as many as I can. Some are fine, some cursory, some filled with potential. And indeed some offer certificates upon conclusion.
But even a cursory review of these offerings underscores that there is insufficient constancy about content, depth, and length of these programs and what a certificate may mean.
I know that some readers will see this as self-serving. After all, I am closely identified as the founder and one of the faculty members at one of the very few universities currently offering a model of the certification of which I write. But I am fully open to learning from my colleagues, adjusting my own thinking, urging modifications in the NYU program if the field, in moving toward a common standard, feels that those competencies are insufficient. Or that there should be an increase in the number of teaching hours. Or…? I would enthusiastically invite our colleagues to engage in this discourse, helping to cultivate a professionalism and set of standards to which we all can ascribe.
Without that discipline, our field will never be able to inspire the kind of coherent and persuasive leadership our societies around the world expect of us. We owe the philanthropy world, its principals and beneficiaries, and all of those within it, no less.