In 2021, Eric St-Pierre, the Executive Director of the Trottier Family Foundation of Montreal, made a simple but striking statement to me as I was interviewing him for my book on Canadian foundations, From Charity To Change: “If we don’t figure out climate, nothing else matters”.
A major recent announcement from the Foundation demonstrates how seriously it takes this idea.
“We are at a pivotal moment in the fight against climate change, with only a limited window to mobilize the capital necessary to meet this generational challenge. In response, we are increasing our grant allocations and partially spending down our endowment to support the charities and initiatives working to advance net-zero pathways in Canada.”
The Trottier Foundation made this announcement in collaboration with eight other private foundations and donors who are committing $405 million as Climate Champions, “the largest philanthropic contribution to climate solutions in Canadian history”. These foundations and donors are hoping to catalyze commitments by other donors to action on climate, in the face of a low funding commitment by the philanthropic community so far. The effort to galvanize climate philanthropy is coordinated through a platform, the Clean Economy Fund, a pooled fund established some years ago by the Ivey Foundation, a long-time philanthropic donor to climate action, which has made its own galvanizing commitment to spend all of its endowment by 2027.
The funds being committed are important. Indeed, they triple the amount of philanthropic dollars committed to climate philanthropy according to the Clean Economy Fund. But how will they be deployed? The CEF identifies five areas where philanthropic dollars can have the most impact: clean energy and electrification; industry and economy; cities; policy and finance; and people and democracy. Each of the donors who have collectively committed $405 million will fund climate action across one or more of these areas.
If you look deeper into the five areas, the money is being spread across them based on the distribution of the limited dollars committed so far. But how much is going to funding for “people and democracy”, described by Climate Champions as “support for the populations who are at disproportionate risk or face more costs because of climate change”? This includes Indigenous communities, rural communities and low-income urban communities. It’s not clear how much is going to this area. And this takes us to the question of Canadian philanthropy’s role in climate justice.
Does philanthropy have a special role and obligation to work on the consequences of climate change through climate justice? A new publication (in French) from the Fondation de France focuses on the challenges faced by philanthropy in supporting a just transition. As the Fondation de France argues, the climate crisis has multiple dimensions: socioeconomic, democratic, geopolitical. To be effective, philanthropy must take a systemic view of how many factors are playing into ever-increasing carbon emissions and ever more catastrophic climate impacts. This seems daunting. One answer for systemic philanthropic action is to work more closely with people on the ground, in communities, who are trying to change their own circumstances and environments.
What does this mean in practice? Philea, the European philanthropy network, underlining the existential urgencies and the growing public distrust in how established institutions are dealing with the social, economic and environmental crisis, puts it this way: “This means working in partnership with other sectors to bring marginalised and vulnerable groups into decision-making processes about land use and environmental policy. It means taking steps to fundamentally shift the priorities within the capitalist system, positioning sustainability as a primary and non-negotiable objective, rather than continuing the unrestrained exploitation of natural resources for profit. And as part of these efforts, it means fostering a balanced dialogue that acknowledges past injustices, including the dispossession of Indigenous lands, and seeks to respect both communities and the environment moving forward.”
How to do this in Canada? One way is through collaborative work to extend philanthropic dollars. Another is to work more closely with intermediaries who direct the funds into grassroots and community-led climate action. An example of this in the United States is The Solutions Project, created in 2013 with the contributions of many funders and now largely funding women of colour-led frontline organizations working on climate justice. In Canada, we have the opportunity to fund many organizations working with Indigenous communities directly on climate solutions, such as Nature United, MakeWay, and the NWT Project Finance for Permanence. Philanthropy can fund research and policy on the development of natural climate solutions, in many cases stewarded by Indigenous and rural communities across Canada. We also have funder platforms working on climate solutions at the grassroots such as Small Change Fund, and funders supporting young environmental activists through The Starfish Canada, and AquaAction. Environment Funders Canada is supporting the Building Power for Climate and Nature Collaborative for funders interested in prioritizing equitable engagement, empowering grassroots, and strategic grant-making.
These are just some ways in which Canadian funders are beginning to come together to support “people and democracy” in the effort to act on the climate crisis. The Climate Champions are telling us that even more is needed. Philanthropists must ask themselves the searching question of how to apply those dollars? What is Canadian philanthropy’s best role and use in this crisis? The answer may be to weigh even more heavily the funds towards actions that empower people and communities.
I often get insights from the blogs written by the ever-thoughtful Phil Buchanan of the Center for Effective Philanthropy (CEP). Phil’s most recent blog reflects on two difficult questions for philanthropy in these polarized times. How to defend and nurture democracy? How to bridge differences of opinion? He swiftly notes that he doesn’t have answers. But he has thoughts, which sparked some of my own.
The two questions are related. And while we are not going through a heated federal election campaign in Canada as is happening in the US, some of the same concerns may arise when we do. As Phil points out, democracy is not simply about having a safe and accessible voting experience, it is about feeling empowered as a well-informed citizen to have a voice and to be free to express a view. In a democracy, citizens should be able to engage in debate with others who don’t share the same views. At the same time, people need to believe that debate will not be overtaken by extremist viewpoints, or that productive discussion will become impossible because it is not based on agreed facts or premises.
Phil believes that donors or funders should care about protecting the space within which democratic debate can take place. He isn’t prescribing how that might happen. But he raises an interesting choice for funders around “when to bridge or when to fight”. By this he means when to try to understand or perhaps persuade, and when to oppose or forcefully counter what is simply wrong. He notes “on the one hand, we won’t make any progress if we just engage with those with whom we already agree — as so many do. But, on the other hand, we don’t want to normalize extremism by platforming or legitimating it. So how do we get it right?”
It's an important question, and not an easy choice. But it assumes that funders are considering it in the first place. And that funders are willing to act as, or to fund, bridgers and battlers. For many Canadian charitable funders, the response to this is to “stay out of it”. This means not just staying out of public debate but not even convening or holding space for debate, let alone funding the capacity of others to engage in debate. Only a small number of Canadian foundations make public statements about policy questions; fund policy advocacy work by charities; convene public discussions on policy issues; fund public interest journalism, or policy movements/coalitions/networks advocating on behalf of an issue or group of charities.
Why the reticence, at this moment when it seems so important to counter the negative statements and untruths of social media, and to encourage active and positive citizen participation?
There could be several reasons. Are Canadian charities and foundations still inhibited by government regulation that discourages what used to be described as “political” activities? Is policy work not part of a philanthropic mission? Is it not credible or too risky for foundations to fund advocacy efforts or to support democratic infrastructure such as public interest media? Do foundations lack resources or expertise or tools to convene or contribute opinions? Foundations have suggested all or any of the above.
On the question of whether government rules inhibit charities from engaging in public policy related activities, we know that the rules were made significantly less constraining in 2018 when the federal government changed the Income Tax Act, removed a reference to “political” activities and replaced it with the term “public policy dialogue and development” activities which can be counted as activities in pursuit of a charitable purpose. Yet it seems that this has not changed the behaviour of many charities. The Charity Insights Canada Project at Carleton University has surveyed charity leaders to understand how they are adapting to the new rules. As summarized by Prof Susan Phillips and Dr. Kim Nguyen in a recent article reporting on the results of the survey, “most Canadian charities do not engage in advocacy and there has been little change in the five years since the regulations were relaxed.”
According to the survey, many charities (and their funders) do not think that policy dialogue and advocacy are relevant to their missions. Many don’t have the time or expertise to engage directly. The rule change has not been sufficient to stimulate more engagement. Phillips and Nguyen conclude that “the organizational, funding and sector environments in which charities operate implicitly shape strategic decisions to avoid policy participation… For all the talk about trust-based philanthropy, funders, including governments, foundations and individual donors, spark fears that being activist will result in lost support. The lack of coordination and collaboration by the sector itself further inhibits policy engagement. The charitable sector could help itself by sharing information about charities’ policy concerns and facilitating stronger networks and coalitions.” Here is a real opportunity surely for foundations to have an impact on more effective citizen participation in democratic dialogues. It would be empowering and powerful to fund networks and coalitions to engage in evidence-based dialogues, to represent communities in discussions with policy makers and to engage with the public through media of all kinds. Bridging, and sometimes battling, as Phil Buchanan has put it, could be important philanthropic contributions to increase the vibrancy of democracy in Canada. And charitable funders could lead the way in de-risking and modeling these activities for other charities. Worth a conversation at the next board meeting, regardless of the electoral calendar or outcomes!
As the calendar turns to September, we inevitably think more about learning, whether we are long past formal education or still engaged with it. We are prompted to it at this time of year by media commentary on school access, new tech for learning and the challenges of keeping student attention in the digital age. Much of this is about individual learning. But what about organizational learning?
In the philanthropy world, learning doesn’t have a September start. It should be year-round. In my experience, most learning activity by foundation people (board and staff) remains informal. This isn’t a criticism. It’s true that and important that learning happens in various ways beyond the formal – personal conversations with colleagues, conversations with community partners, attendance at conferences, collective discussions with experts of one kind or another. However, in a philanthropic organization, formal learning is often associated or directly coupled with evaluation. And that is mostly done at arms-length. Surveys are prepared, reports are requested, data is supplied to funders by the organizations receiving their funds. All this input serves the purposes of accountability and governance. It is necessary. But it may or may not translate into learning. It answers the question: what did we do? But not always the question: what can we do better?
The British consulting and research organization IVAR puts learning at the heart of its work with foundations, suggesting that learning is a driving force for foundation strategy and practice. As IVAR notes, “learning is not an add-on – it’s integral and essential… Making good grants and investing in learning are not alternatives. They go hand in hand.”
If this is true, why do so many foundations seem reluctant to be more structured in their approach to learning? Part of the reason may be that they don’t see it as a practice that needs to be formalized in the same way as grants management, budgeting and board governance. Part of it may have to do with not having enough resources (people or time). Part of it may simply be that it is difficult to do.
But foundation board members and staff are uniquely primed to want to explore the question: how can we do better? Not just how can we become more efficient…but how can we become more effective, have more impact on the social issues and problems that we care about? It may be difficult at the beginning. Learning does take time. But it can be consciously shaped. It’s a conversation that can be built into every board agenda, and every staff discussion. It’s not something to do only once a year but as often as the opportunity can be created. IVAR has helpfully supplied tips for foundations on building a learning agenda.
Learning can also become a crucial element in building relationships between funders and community partners. This ties into the increasing interest among foundations in engaging in “trust-based granting”. Many of the changes in funding practice that funders have made since 2020 – streamlining applications, reducing reporting requirements, covering more operating costs, extending grants over more than one year – have been designed to help organizations supported by foundations to do their work more effectively. If they are more effective, foundations are more effective. Learning as a practice can help both funders and their partners in this regard. But how do you engage in trust-based learning, without adding burden on both sides?
British philanthropic funders have some advice to offer us. IVAR has been running a funder roundtable on evaluation for some time. Members of this group and the broader group of funders working with IVAR have been particularly interested in practicing what they call open and trusting grantmaking. Since learning is a key strategic practice, several of these funders are collectively discussing what it would look like to practice trust-based learning. In a 2023 report, IVAR researchers defined trust-based learning as “a learning process that sees charities and funders as equal partners in building collective wisdom for more effective and equitable social change.”
Sharing insights in a blog post in January this year, IVAR researcher Houda Davis suggested four actions that funders could take to bring trust-based learning to life:
The IVAR funders have many helpful comments and tips to share based on their experience. They don’t minimize the obstacles. But they suggest that thinking hard and being willing to commit to equitable learning practices does offer real value by adding to the capacity and effectiveness of the organizations on the ground as well as the funders themselves. “Rather than learning practices that serve the needs of individual funders – often at the expense (literally) of grant recipients – trust-based learning aims to reposition charities and funders as partners who learn alongside each other in service of achieving shared goals.”
With this encouragement, September can be a return to learning for philanthropy too.
One of the stranger (to me) developments in philanthropy circles in 2024 has been the fierce debate about trust versus strategy, applied to funder approaches. Perhaps for the sake of argument, trust has been described as an alternative to strategy, as if the two were quite separate. This is a distinction made in a much-discussed recent article by Mark Kramer and Steve Phillips with the eye-catching title Where Strategic Philanthropy Went Wrong. But I don’t actually think the article is about weighing the merits of trust versus strategy.
In my recent blog I reflected on the suggestion made by Kramer and Phillips that the best role for philanthropy is to stay away from grand strategy and focus more on trusting and empowering people and communities to solve their own challenges. This is valid advice. But does it mean that trust-based philanthropy is therefore “better than” strategic philanthropy? The proponents of a trust-based approach feel strongly about the importance of removing conditions and restrictions. The proponents of a strategic approach believe that it is important to set goals and to measure progress. Both can be true and important. I think Kramer and Phillips would not disagree with that. But the contrasts between these approaches have been exaggerated for effect both in this article and in other public debates about the role of philanthropy.
Some have talked about this difference as being essentially about power: keeping it or shifting it. Adopters of trust-based funding are said to want to share the power that money gives them. So-called strategic philanthropists are assumed to want to keep the power to make decisions about how and to whom they allocate their money. Kramer and Phillips introduce power (and who holds it) as an element of their suggested “new” approach to philanthropy by describing it as “empowerment” philanthropy. In their view, “philanthropists need not come up with the answers to other people’s problems but should merely help empower people to improve their own lives as they choose.” They think that this way of thinking is “at odds with many of our current philanthropic and nonprofit practices”, implying that we must discard these practices if we as philanthropists want to truly make a difference in people’s lives. But while many foundations are indeed rethinking practices such as onerous written grant applications, single year funding and restricted program dollars, I am not persuaded by Kramer and Phillips’s insinuation that donors must throw out their own interest in setting goals or thinking strategically.
Phil Buchanan of the Center for Effective Philanthropy reacted with some exasperation in his recent blog to the tendency of commentators such as Kramer and Phillips to “invent” new roles and approaches for funders. Buchanan says bluntly that “there are no silver bullets when it comes to the practice of philanthropy. It’s complicated and goal- and context-dependent. It requires humility. That’s why I find simplistic takes on philanthropy that suggest that there is one, new, superior way so unhelpful.” He suggests, as do others, that Kramer and Phillips are setting up strategic philanthropy as a “straw man” so that they can contrast it with their proposed empowerment philanthropy. I agree. This is what many in the debate between strategic and trust-based approaches do. They maintain that the foundation world is privileged and without the lived experience necessary to solve social problems or to come up with innovative solutions. But this should not mean that strategy gets thrown out with the bathwater. As Buchanan concludes, and I strongly concur, “I’d agree with the article that empowering those closest to issues and problems to chart solutions can be an effective approach to making progress toward certain goals, and probably isn’t common enough... But these observations shouldn’t be positioned in opposition to strategy; recognition of these realities can be, in fact, essential elements of a good strategy”.
Rhodri Davies, the UK-based philanthropy commentator, has weighed in at length on the trust versus strategy debate with his article Why Isn’t All Philanthropy Trust-based Philanthropy?. For those interested in a historical perspective, Davies describes how so-called strategic philanthropy evolved as an effort to rationalize and formalize the informally generous practice of philanthropy as charity. I think it is important to remember, as Davies reminds us, that the push to become more strategic has been an effort to increase the impact and effectiveness of philanthropy without losing the individual impulse to generosity that is at its heart. He acknowledges the push back on strategic philanthropy that has become most obvious since 2020 with the actions of major donors such as Mackenzie Scott and Melinda French Gates, as well as a newer generation of wealth inheritors who are publicly espousing a philanthropy that is much less donor-directed and much more trust or participation-based. Their commitment to social justice and equity is an important driver of this shift.
The value of Davies’s article is that he is much more nuanced than Kramer and Phillips in assessing the opportunities and challenges of a more trust-based approach. It can’t be a one-sized fits all way of thinking, as Buchanan also notes. It is dependent on context and the goals of both philanthropic and community partners. I think one of the key points made by Davies and others is that philanthropic strategies are highly dependent on relationships. Trust is an aspect and outcome of relationship. Effective strategy also arises from strong working relationships. It is difficult to divorce either element from relations between and among funders and partners. So, to my mind the “trust versus strategy” dispute is a bit of a provocative red herring. The better question for a foundation to ask itself, I think, is how can we deepen our relationships with our partners, to gain their trust and to build better strategies that will help us achieve our mutual goals?
Note: I wrote a blog in 2022 on the challenges of practising trust-based philanthropy which offers some useful tools to funders.
As I look around at the lack of political consensus on what to do about poverty, public health or climate, and as I listen to the arguments and debates in the media, I do wonder where and whether we might have agreement on what is the common good. Is there a common good? Or are we moving to very different views of what is in the best interest of the “commons”? And if so, what can philanthropy do about it?
These questions are addressed in two recent, very thoughtful articles in journals which typically focus on philanthropy and social purpose. Alliance Magazine published a piece by the American nonprofit and philanthropic leader Clara Miller, who wrote about the erosion of what she calls the “outer commons”. The Stanford Social Innovation Review published a reflective but also passionate piece by Mark Kramer and Steve Phillips, Where Strategic Philanthropy Went Wrong. Both pieces in different ways discuss the role of philanthropy in pursuing the public good. And both would be good input for a discussion around foundation board tables.
Miller walks through historical concepts of the “common good” on the North American continent, providing an unusual perspective to the conversations in philanthropy about “public good”. Indeed, she quotes a Canadian historian Allan Greer who has written about the history of early Canada from pre-colonial to first settler days. Greer is interested in concepts of property as a way of understanding the idea of what is held “in common”. Miller quotes Greer as describing three aspects of land use, which were common to Indigenous and settler communities alike: individual spaces or homes, an “inner commons” of shared space within a community, and an “outer commons”, or lands outside a community. The outer commons, as Greer and Miller point out, were where the strongest conflicts among parties took place in pre-colonial and colonial societies. Miller notes that “the concept that everyone is entitled to a commonly held, non-proprietary resource base for the necessities of life remains the scene of conflict today”. And so, “North Americans have evolved away from an early tradition of sharing to today’s environment of continually contested values.”
Applying the idea of shared spaces to our current context, Miller suggests that the privatization of public goods such as water, the air waves, hospitals and schools (particularly in the American context) and the abandonment of unwritten rules that guided political consensus and behavior in past years constitute a violation of our “outer commons”. In this situation, the role of philanthropy is to try to restore the “outer commons” by offsetting the negative impact of privatizing social supports. She generalizes in her argument about North American philanthropy in a way that I don’t think recognizes sufficiently the different political and social approaches of Canada and the United States around the state role in maintaining the public good (through policy, funding and regulation). But she puts her finger on the pressure being felt by philanthropy in both countries to preserve or restore the “outer commons”.
What does this mean for philanthropic strategy? This is where the article by Kramer and Phillips takes Miller’s reflection further. In fact, they stand on its head the idea that philanthropy can itself do something meaningful to preserve the “outer commons”. No amount of philanthropic direct spending on the biggest social challenges we face, say Kramer and Phillips, has made “discernible progress on poverty, educational disparities, housing shortages, racial inequity and climate change.” One could dispute this at the margin, but it is true that the resources of private philanthropy will never be enough to overcome these complex problems. The whole charitable sector does not have the resources. As Kramer and Phillips point out, only government has those resources and mandate to preserve the “outer commons” for the benefit of all. But governments in the United States, the focus of the article, have made choices not to do so. In the view of the authors, this is because American governments are not representative of a multiracial population. American democracy is flawed and must be repaired.
So, what should philanthropy do? They believe that it must be redirected from the approaches of so-called strategic and top-down grantmaking philanthropy to an approach that entails three goals: “ensuring a functioning democracy that is truly representative of our population, rejecting false and misleading social narratives that misdirect public opinion, and supporting the economic self-determination of those living in poverty.” Concretely, this means funding efforts for civic and voter engagement and education, and funding community empowerment, economic self-determination, and individual agency. Kramer and Phillips reject the traditional concepts of strategy. “There are no grand strategies or elaborate theories of change. Instead, we are recommending that funders support an open-ended process that enables people to define their own goals and discover their own solutions, uniquely situated to their needs and circumstances—solutions that may never occur to wealthy donors or outside experts.”
This is a powerful shift from a consultant such as Mark Kramer who has been associated with the idea of strategic philanthropy for decades. He is pointing to an insight that many community development practitioners have long proclaimed. Philanthropy’s role should not (only) be to administer to needs (which can never be fully met by funders) but to recognize achievement, and support people on the path to success in their communities. This is another approach to bringing about systemic change….not through addressing root causes directly but through empowering people and communities to fully access and act on their democratic and human rights. Although our two North American societies differ in the degree to which the balance has tipped from public to private provision of public goods, and to conservation of the “outer commons”, the suggestions for the role and priorities of philanthropy are applicable to both countries. These two provocative and thoughtful articles are certainly food for thought in the Canadian context.
I have always been a fan of science fiction - not fantasy fiction but hard science fiction. Partly it’s because science fiction assumes that there will be a future for humanity, however strange. And partly it’s because these alternative futures are often mind-opening. William Gibson’s novel Neuromancer (published in 1984) was one of those memorable novels that first helped me visualize a world in which virtual reality and digital networks exist, long before they did. More recently, Kim Stanley Robinson’s Ministry for the Future created a vivid picture of the terrifying impact of future climate change while also bringing to life some fascinating and, dare I say, science fiction-like scenarios for creating a better future.
What does this have to do with philanthropy or foundations? The mind-opening possibilities of science fiction are like those of what people call “futures thinking”. And foundations with their flexibility, resources and long term focus are just the organizations to take advantage of futures thinking to open themselves and their partners to new opportunities. Just as Robinson’s Ministry for the Future acts on behalf of a sustainable human and planetary future, philanthropy can act to identify and promote solutions for our common future.
I was prompted in these thoughts by reading Futures Philanthropy: Anticipation for the Common Good a new guide to futures and foresight work released by Philea, the network of European foundations. This guide was developed by Philea and the Copenhagen Institute for Future Studies as a way for philanthropy “to strengthen its futures muscle”. Philanthropic organizations, it suggests, are among the freest institutions in our societies, which makes them good candidates for the development and application of a futures mindset – thinking about future scenarios in a way that helps see the present in a new way. “The future is not a distant void detached from the current moment…but no single approach to the future holds all the answers. Depending a on a single perspective can cause us to overlook the valuable insights that other viewpoints might offer. Merging futures thinking with philanthropy has the potential to address present-day crises and support long-term transformative change”.
How does one develop a futures mindset (beyond developing a taste for science fiction)? The guide offers principles and questions, most of which have to do with open, active listening, using empathy, questioning assumptions, and challenging conventional wisdom. Not easy to do but one can start with creating more diversity around a discussion table and asking more “what if?” rather than “how can” questions.
With a futures mindset, the guide offers some new (to me) tools for applying futures thinking in your organization. It sketches nine tools for provoking conversations and creating possibilities for action. This reminded me of another tool, the useful sensemaking worksheets for thinking about the future offered in Lucy Bernholz’s Blueprint 2024 which I describe in my blog post from January 2024, Thinking Ahead. The guide suggests that “by incorporating futures-driven exercises into team meetings, conference programs and boardroom discussion, you can foster an environment ripe for idea generation and deeper reflection.” Bernholz makes much the same point. There are many ways to challenge one’s thinking in philanthropy. We don’t have to revert to the “same old”.
Philea sets the scene for European philanthropy’s thinking about the future by reporting on the results of a 21st Century Philanthropy survey to which 238 philanthropy, civil society, academia, business, think tank, government and media organizations responded. This could be an interesting exercise for Canadian philanthropy too. Philea asks: In 2033, will philanthropy be a trusted legitimate partner co-shaping societal and ecosystem development, or will it be considered old-fashioned, elitist and unable to inspire debate or provide sparks for transformation? What are the most relevant structural and strategic choices philanthropic leadership is facing?
What do the survey responses indicate? The greatest opportunities for philanthropy in Europe in the next decade center on adopting systemic change approaches, moving to trust-based philanthropy, and collaborating more across sectors. The greatest risks are conservative boards and leaders, slow adaptation or short termism and a focus on the mainstream rather than on innovation. I daresay we would find the same in Canada. What else does the survey offer? The identification of 13 megatrends that will shape philanthropy’s future in the next decade, of which the top five are climate change and environmental degradation, AI and automation, concentration of wealth, climate migration and the rising influence of new governing systems (a retreat of democracy).
This data provides useful context for a foundation’s internal conversations about what will shape its work. Some of the European responses reported by Philea could feed an assessment by a Canadian foundation board and staff trying to imagine what matters in the next decade. But how does this also help us understand the implications for action in the present? What can futures thinking add to a foundation’s strategy development, practices and learning agendas? The guide provides several interesting case studies of European foundations who describe how they have used a futures lens to change their approach to the present. I came away from my dive into this guide more convinced than ever that futures thinking is a valuable addition to a philanthropic organization’s toolkit. And of course, I would suggest you add an SF novel or two to the mix to stimulate your thinking in creative ways.
Six years ago, I began reviewing books on philanthropy and social purpose leadership for The Philanthropist Journal. I can now look at a bookshelf’s worth of reviews – 16 books written by 20 authors.
These authors are all from the English-speaking world, primarily the US and the United Kingdom, joined by two Canadians, an Australian and a German. Their backgrounds range from journalism to history, from philosophy to fundraising, from research to consulting. Some are nonprofit leaders. Many are academics. They have different starting points, from ethics and morality to history and politics, and from bird’s eye to grassroots. Some write intellectual analyses, some write practical advice, some take a long view while others comment on the present moment. This diversity is an indication of the fascination and complexity of philanthropy across disciplines and perspectives.
I was curious to see if common themes emerge from these books, which were written over years during which philanthropy and nonprofit leadership have been increasingly under scrutiny. When I reread the reviews, I am struck by the optimism that all authors attach to the idea and practice of philanthropy and social purpose work. Giving for improvement of the common good is an enduring human impulse. Most of these books start from this place. They intend to inform and encourage the students and practitioners of philanthropy. The faults and negative characteristics of philanthropy are not ignored by these authors. They name issues of power, privilege and opacity. But they also share a belief that private philanthropy has value and that philanthropic practice can be improved and “modernized”. They bring thoughtfulness and rigour to our understanding of philanthropy’s role in our societies.
Networking, partnership, collaboration, participation –more than one author points philanthropy in this direction. Several of them make the case for philanthropy to remain anchored in values, moral purpose and heart – philanthropy should not be bloodless. And many believe that risk, imagination and innovation are assets that philanthropy can contribute to our shared benefit, if “done right” as Phil Buchanan would say.
If you are new to philanthropy, or a practitioner looking for inspiration, you will find much to learn from in one or several of these books. All 16 reviews are reposted on my virtual bookshelf, with thanks to The Philanthropist Journal.
Here are some quotes from my reviews to encourage your browsing.
In early April, the leaders of two relatively new Canadian foundations, Definity Insurance Foundation and Daymark Foundation, joined me at the annual conference of the Canadian Association of Gift Planners to share their experiences and insights on the evolution of strategic philanthropy. Here is some of what we talked about...
We live in a better country than we did 20 years ago, even if the media paint a different picture. For example….
In every case, a Canadian grantmaking foundation provided the seed funds, the connections, the training or the advocacy support to make it happen. And most people don’t know about it.
Why not? Foundations don’t often tell their own stories. And they need to. Because there are many other stories out there not told by foundations.
Some are benign (foundations exist to help those in need). Some are aspirational (foundations are the risk capital for much-needed social innovation). But others are conspiratorial (foundations are anti-democratic vehicles for the wealthy), or critical (foundations sequester urgently needed resources for today’s problems).
It’s true, there isn’t a single story. Philanthropic foundations are as different as the sources and uses of their capital. At the core, all foundation stories are about charity, caring for others. But foundations can also fight justice and seek equity. To do this, they must support social change.
Strategic foundations can tell a story about bringing about social change, using models and theories to determine and measure specific social outcomes and impacts. But this isn’t a story about the solo foundation in charge. That model is not ideal for social change. Even if it is appealing for a foundation to run its own show, it doesn’t open the door to more collaborative approaches. And it doesn’t consider the complexities of social change.
A strategic foundation works hand in hand with community partners to achieve mutually agreed goals, using its capital creatively and committing to active learning along the way. Definity and Daymark are this kind of foundation. The diversity of their work shows us that foundations contribute more than just financial capital. They can support knowledge-building, social research and development, network creation and convening, organization and infrastructure support. They can influence and they can advocate. They act as signals to others around innovations that may be crucial to us five or ten years from today.
In all philanthropic stories, we must acknowledge questions of power and inequality. Foundations are privileged. Their assets give them power. Foundations in Canada are being called out, as they are elsewhere, for lack of urgency in a world of rapid climate change and increasing inequality. Foundations, just like other organizations, need to be more transparent. To be accountable, foundations need to explain what change, what social impact, they seek and how they are going about it.
Arti Freeman, Chief Executive Officer of Definity Insurance Foundation, and Vani Jain, Executive Director of Daymark, are foundation leaders who know this well. They and their boards share some essential qualities with other strategic philanthropic leaders:
The Daymark Foundation is a family foundation created in 2020 to focus on mental health in two specific areas: women’s mental health (with an initial focus on perinatal mental health) and bipolar disorder. The Foundation has clearly set out its theory of change to improve outcomes in its chosen areas, in an unusually open manner. It uses a “more than money” approach, deploying intellectual, social, human and financial capital to act on its priorities. The Foundation has eliminated its grant application process in favour of an open invitation to potential partners to contact the Foundation for a call to discuss the organization’s vision for systems impact. As Vani Jain puts it, “competitive grantmaking promotes self-interest and hinders collaboration. We want to help organizations see their role within a larger system and explore the contribution they could make alongside others.” Daymark uses convening as a tool to help orient stakeholders toward these higher-level goals.
Definity Insurance Foundation is an independent foundation established and funded through the demutualization of the Economical Mutual Insurance Company. Since its public launch in February 2022, the Foundation has been focused on the roots of inequality, working particularly with Black Indigenous and racialized populations. Like Daymark, it has chosen to work with partners to advance community-led solutions that further climate, health and socio-economic justice goals. Like Daymark, Definity thinks of its capital as more than simply financial. It is also boldly moving into seeding initiatives that catalyze more private capital for the social outcomes that it seeks. It is deeply committed to providing the funds for capacity building of the partners with whom it has chosen to work. For example, it provided a $750,000 multi-year grant to the Raven Indigenous Impact Foundation, an organization focused on improving the wellbeing of Indigenous peoples, co-creating financial solutions that will result in better outcomes in climate and health for Indigenous peoples by centering the needs and voices of Indigenous communities. The Foundation provided the seed funding to design and structure the fund, hire a CIO and raise capital through investor engagement. Once the fund was in place, the Foundation also made a commitment to invest in the fund. Arti Freeman notes that this investment has a multiplier effect that accelerates impact. “If we want to achieve our mission, we can’t do it just with granting dollars,” says Arti. “We use our relational, social, intellectual and financial capital to advance solutions, and we learn as we do, always in collaboration with others, because how we show up is as important to us as what we fund”.
These two foundations exemplify a strategic approach being taken by Canadian foundations featuring innovative uses of capital, collaboration and a clear focus on outcomes. The foundation story is evolving rapidly, and we will hear more of it directly from these new leaders as a new generation comes in to Canadian philanthropy.
When should a foundation start thinking of moving from two to three? Most relations between funder and recipient are of course binary, involving two parties. But sometimes a funder might provide resources to a recipient in between the funder and another recipient. The awkward term “intermediary” is often used in these circumstances where a funder might grant to an organization which can perform diverse tasks for both the funder and an ultimate recipient: regranting, fiscal sponsorship, capacity building, platforming, fund pooling, advocacy… the list goes on.
There are many examples of intermediaries in Canada across a range of purposes. Community foundations, united ways and donor-advised fund foundations help funders by passing funds through to recipients. Organizations such as Community Foundations of Canada and MakeWay create fiscal sponsorships and capacity building platforms. The King Baudouin Foundation Canada helps donors by funding cross-border projects. Government funders also use intermediaries frequently to select recipients and distribute funds. Community Foundations Canada, United Way Canada and the Red Cross were intermediaries for the federal Community Services Recovery Fund. Another federal fund, the Investment Readiness Program, partnered with multiple nonprofit organizations as intermediaries to convene, educate and pass through funds to social purpose organizations.
There are collective or pooled funding intermediaries such as the Clean Economy Fund. There are backbone organizations such as Vibrant Communities Canada. Regional networks such as the Ontario Nonprofit Network and national groups such as Philanthropic Foundations Canada, Environment Funders Canada and Imagine Canada have also been around for years as intermediaries to convene, educate, advocate for and sometimes directly fund the charitable sector. More recently, as philanthropy in Canada has begun to focus more on racial injustice, inequality and systemic barriers, new intermediaries such as the Indigenous Peoples Resilience Fund and the Foundation for Black Communities have been launched to represent and to support Black and Indigenous organizations and communities directly.
Many charitable funders in Canada have used intermediaries as a channel to grant to non-charities. The recent changes to the Income Tax Act now provide more flexibility for charitable funders to grant directly to non-charities. But it is unlikely that the role of intermediaries will lessen in importance because of the many ways in which they can offer services that go beyond the act of re-granting. Indeed, the change in the law may provoke more foundations to ask themselves about how they can use intermediaries to grant to organizations in communities where there are few charities but where they know there is more social and systemic injustice.
Given the importance of intermediaries in philanthropy it is surprising that not more has been written about this relationship. How do you choose when and who to fund? What are the complexities involved in moving from a single relationship to multiple relationships? A topical new report Working with Intermediaries Strategically has been released by the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, authored by Cynthia Gibson and Maria Mottola, philanthropy consultants. This report offers a new perspective and a valuable approach for Canadian foundations who might want to consider why and then how they might want to include intermediaries in their granting.
The authors reframe the question by broadening the lens from what funders want to what intermediaries and others in a community might want too. In other words, they suggest that funders should think of working with intermediaries not just in transactional but in relational terms, depending on what both the funder and the intermediary want to accomplish. They point out that “the term intermediary is itself being questioned, with some preferring the word partners to imply that the foundation and the intermediary have similar goals, intentions, and strategies and are working together to achieve them…This conceptualization sees each partner as having assets and resources as well as needs and affirms that naming and exploring these reciprocal relationships will lead to better structures and outcomes for our common mission-focused work. “
Specifically, say Gibson and Mottola, “funders need to take a more holistic view of not only what they need but also what organizations, networks, movements, and fields need to achieve their goals and then working as partners with grantees to determine how intermediaries can help do that.” Their report is based on interviews with both funders and intermediaries, from whom they quote extensively, so that much of what they have to say is drawn from experience. One respondent clearly summarizes the broader relational perspective brought by Gibson and Mottola: “funders need to start by thinking about the intersections between the issues they want to address, which will determine the kind of groups and networks to consider. Who is active in that intersection? Is it important that they have a racial justice lens? Who can we partner with? Who are other funders supporting? Where’s the energy in the donor community? Basically, what does the space or ecosystem look like as a whole and where are there gaps and opportunities to strengthen it?”
A practical contribution offered by Gibson and Mottola is a tool for funders to use in considering whether to work with a partner. The tool starts from the traditional premise of identifying a purpose for which the funder believes it needs an intermediary. This could be tactical, strategic or relational. This is already a helpful distinction to make. The tool then prompts the funder to think about questions aimed at encouraging deeper analysis about the why behind the presumed function of the intermediary. These questions will be immensely helpful to provide a deeper and more reflective conversation by foundation staff or board members as they think about when and why to seek out a third party in their philanthropy. Intermediary partners are an important component of the philanthropic ecosystem. A thoughtful approach to “third” party granting should be part of an effective philanthropic strategy.