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So, this is a little awkward.
Let me set the scene. Like so many others, I’ve been watching the Olympics. I thoroughly enjoy seeing remarkable athletes, many in their teens and 20s, excel at their craft. I love the interviews with the athletes about all the work, commitment, and sacrifice it took to reach the pinnacle of their sport. I’m inspired by their pride of purpose in representing their hometown, their ethnicity, and their nation.
During this same time period, I happened to read an article in the Chronicle of Philanthropy titled “Bad Bosses, Big Dreams, and Broken Philanthropy,” which featured interviews with three emerging nonprofit leaders. I think of the Chronicle as the leading publication in the nonprofit world, and it also happens to pay me to write a column. Any group of young people the publication chooses to feature are, I would assume, some version of the best of the next generation of leaders. Young Olympians, so to speak.
Some broader context: I am an organizational founder who came up during the early 2000s, an era in which young nonprofit leaders were routinely handed the book Good to Great, by management guru Jim Collins, and told that excellence in leadership was critical to solving social problems. I also have a stake in the quality of the field over all. I serve on nonprofit boards and commissions, and I write for the Chronicle because I believe civil society is an engine for positive change in a world with severe problems.
What all of this adds up to is that I could not help but compare the statements by the young nonprofit leaders in the Chronicle article to the interviews given by the young Olympic athletes. Both groups have been chosen to represent their field. Both are deeply committed to what they do, which for the nonprofit leaders interviewed is solving the climate and mental health crises. They are roughly the same age. They are presented by credible bodies as the future of their respective fields.
The contrast between them, however, couldn’t be starker.
Olympic vs. Nonprofit Culture
The young nonprofit leaders speak of suffering, of too much pressure, of burnout, of being failed by others, of feeling constantly demoralized. They say leaders in the field lack “transparency and authenticity.” They speak of an organization’s legacy as something to dismiss rather than to be inspired by and live up to. They cite all the reasons they can’t solve the problem or achieve the goal, ranging from mental health challenges to adults who don’t listen to their interns enough.
The norms that the Olympians live by are strikingly different. The athletes don’t spend a lot of energy talking about all the things that might prevent them from achieving their goals. They spend their energy achieving their goals. They assume they are going to face tremendous adversity along the way, and they prepare to overcome it.
Simone Biles faced serious mental health challenges. To her great credit, she dealt with them head on to become the most decorated Olympic gymnast in American history. One of the Brazilian gymnasts, Flavia Saraiva, literally fell on her face during the team competition, causing a cut above her eye. She didn’t blame the bars, the mat, the sport, or her coach. She got up, completed an otherwise flawless routine, and helped her team win a medal.
I was struck by the dismissiveness toward older leaders from the young nonprofit leaders, as if they are the only ones who have seen the light or know what’s right. One of them says: “The entire field of philanthropy and nonprofits needs to assess what it has really done in the last 30 or 40 years. What have we really accomplished?”
The statement seemed especially cavalier in the context of major philanthropic news the week the piece was published: the announcement that Darren Walker was retiring after 14 years as president of the Ford Foundation. Articles in the New York Times and the Chronicle described his mammoth contributions, including safeguarding the city of Detroit from a brutal bankruptcy.
By contrast, Olympic athletes routinely express profound appreciation for those who have come before and paved the way. Hezly Rivera, the youngest member of the U.S. women’s gymnastics team, said of her older teammates: “They’ve been through the journey. … They’ve been through the pressure. I think they’ll be able to mentor me and help me so much.”
Olympic athletes also take it as their responsibility to inspire others to be their best. Here is what Wenyen Gabriel, an NBA basketball player who competed for his home country of South Sudan, told CNN: “Knowing that there’s a bunch of kids, a bunch of youth, that are from South Sudan that look up to us, that are inspired by what we do, that think maybe they can make it next — for me to go represent the country, be one of the first group, is just an honor to me.”
Gabriel is essentially saying that if you excel, others will be inspired to excel as well.
And if you mostly critique, those who follow you will likely do the same.
Troubling Pattern
If this pattern continues, we will have a nonprofit field full of people who excel at pointing out all the things that are wrong with the world, and few people who have built the knowledge base and skill set to make things right.
As much as I love the Olympics, I think nonprofit work is far more important than athletics. Doing flips off a balance beam is cool, but helping to solve the homelessness crisis or tutoring kids in reading is critical. We count on Olympic athletes to do everything they can to win gold medals. We should be able to count on nonprofit leaders to win gold in their field — to excel at finding solutions for homelessness rather than citing the obstacles.
At this point, you’re probably thinking, OK, Generation Xer, here comes another critique of all that’s wrong with Generation Z. But that’s not my intent here.
I think the young nonprofit leaders interviewed by the Chronicle simply told the sector what they believed it wanted to hear. And these days it’s the people who talk about the problems at nonprofit conferences who get the standing ovations — not those who propose solutions. If I were a young nonprofit leader, I’d be criticizing, too. It’s just following the norm.
It wasn’t always this way. When I started my organization in my early 20s, I spent a lot of time critiquing the old ways. But the nonprofit leaders who mentored me quickly made it clear they weren’t interested in supporting someone who was better at talking about problems than solving them.
It’s high time we face this challenge as a sector. Coaches and mentors prepare athletes to win gold medals in their sports. The nonprofit field similarly needs to prepare young leaders to solve social issues — even in the face of inevitable adversity.
The Commons is financed in part with philanthropic support from the Arthur M. Blank Family Foundation, Einhorn Collaborative, and JPB Foundation. None of our supporters have any control over or input into story selection, reporting, or editing, and they do not review articles before publication. See more about the Chronicle, the grants, how our foundation-supported journalism works, and our gift-acceptance policy.)
