The traditional definition of charity — helping those in need through one’s giving — has come under fire by philanthropic leaders as insufficient, even misguided. Philanthropy, we are told, must think much bigger. Rather than offering crumbs from the table of the wealthy, it must support efforts to correct, even replace, a fundamentally unjust American social and economic system.
Darren Walker, president of the Ford Foundation and a leading proponent of such thinking, has called for a “justice-based philanthropy” that re-examines the social structures that created philanthropic wealth and perpetuated inequality. Echoing that view, Stanford University philanthropy scholar Lucy Bernholz writes: “Nonprofit and philanthropic organizations that want to address our systemic crises need to be prepared to take on the societal systems that created them — and that have allowed their own organizations to flourish.”
This focus on social and economic change as the essence of philanthropy must not go unchallenged. It does not describe, or circumscribe, the reality behind Americans’ $300 billion-plus in giving annually. Much of that giving reflects a different set of guiding principles: concern for one’s community, a desire to help disadvantaged people achieve upward mobility in a system striving to be just, a dedication to pushing the boundaries of discovery in science and medicine, and a passion for preserving shared traditions of art and music.
A relatively small portion of what individual Americans donate to charitable organizations is directed at the sort of advocacy agenda promoted by Walker and Bernholz — and much of that supports goals and organizations that would dispute the idea that the American system is fundamentally flawed. This is not meant to diminish the significance of and growing support for nonprofits advocating for a more just and equitable society through issues such as voter access and fair elections. Instead, it is meant to argue against the diversion of resources from traditional charities to those whose primary focus is addressing systemic inequality.
Advancing the American Dream
The type of charity most Americans do practice and should practice reflects a belief in the American Dream — what I call a philanthropy of social continuity and inclusion. This form of philanthropy seeks to maintain or renew the community fabric; to expand but also preserve knowledge; to include new immigrants and disadvantaged people in what, on balance, is a successful society. It reflects the notion that problems such as income inequality or the racial gap in educational achievement can be addressed with adjustments to the current system and thoughtful policy, not fundamental change.
Most Americans steer their charity to efforts to advance the American Dream — a philanthropy of inclusion and continuity.
The leading examples of actual charitable giving, as measured by "Giving USA” (the bulk of which comes from individual donors), reflect an implicit belief in the importance of social continuity and inclusion. The largest portion — $128 billion — goes to religious institutions, although that number is likely even higher since many people who give to churches, synagogues, or mosques don’t itemize their taxes (most Americans earn too little to do so), making their giving harder to track. These donations support community and local needs, timeless values of ethical conduct, and congregational bonds.
Investments in education, the second-largest giving category, at $64 billion, are inherently predicated on the belief that schools can and should prepare all young people to contribute to a socioeconomic system that values their skills and talents. These donors are acting on the belief that our nation’s education institutions, despite their flaws, are sound enough to provide a path to greater opportunity for millions of disadvantaged students.
Similarly, much of the nearly $22 billion-plus directed to arts organizations such as museums and orchestras demonstrates a belief in the value of continued appreciation for classical and contemporary culture. Some scholars suggest that many of these institutions reflect white supremacy, but that notion is misguided. Consider the example of the brilliant African American painter and muralist Jacob Lawrence, whose artistic talent was nurtured at the Harlem branch of the YMCA. A recent show of his work at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, entitled “The American Struggle,” celebrated the American Revolution, including the role of Black soldiers.
Examples like this demonstrate the right way for philanthropy to think about broadly supporting diversity and inclusion. We should not abandon long-established institutions with proud histories, even as they work to do better in areas they may have previously overlooked.
Indeed, the social-justice approach to addressing racism ignores a critical reality: Philanthropy need not focus directly on race to ameliorate the challenges facing people of color. Sickle-cell anemia, for example, affects Black people disproportionately but may be cured as a result of research on stem-cell transplantation, which addresses a wide range of illnesses. Similarly, Black and brown people hit so hard by the coronavirus pandemic stand to benefit from vaccines with near-universal effectiveness. Certainly, specific problems faced by specific groups should receive special attention, but we should keep in mind that basic scientific research is broadly beneficial.
Local Giving
We should also remember that a good deal of charitable giving is local, focused on maintaining communities, not challenging the political and economic systems that helped them flourish.
One of the fastest-growing types of charitable institutions in the United States is community foundations (some 750 and counting), which are essentially pooled funds from a multitude of individual donors dedicated to local needs. Although some have fallen in line with the social-change mantra, gifts from small community foundations, in particular, typically focus on more meat-and-potatoes community continuity. The Marietta Community Foundation, in Ohio, supports the local 4-H and Salvation Army; the Santa Fe Community Foundation helps a private, rural library; the Idaho Community Foundation helped purchase a small town ambulance.
Locally focused giving reflects an understanding that the vitality of what appear to be healthy, or “privileged,” communities is neither inevitable nor guaranteed. Communities can decline so philanthropic investments in local library funds, green spaces, or awards for local teachers reflect an understanding that privilege and advantage are not a given. Even what appear to be healthy communities are gardens that must be tended.
That doesn’t mean we should be indifferent to the needs of those who have suffered historic discrimination or face income disadvantage.
Local YMCAs, Boys and Girls Clubs (with their emphasis on health and recreation in urban areas), and organizations such as Habitat for Humanity and Teach for America, which, like early 20th-century settlement houses, embed people in communities where they are needed most, have always understood their mission as one of continuity, complemented by inclusion of those in need. The goal of inclusion unites programs like the YMCA of Greater New York, which continues its tradition of helping immigrants adapt to their new lives, and local organizations like the Ely Chapman Education Foundation’s after-school tutoring program for the children of Appalachian southern Ohio.
The Role of Black Institutions
Encouraging support of traditional charities includes many historic Black institutions. Notably, both Vice President Harris and incoming Secretary of Housing and Urban Development Marcia Fudge are lifelong members of African American sororities they joined as undergraduates at Howard University — Alpha Kappa Alpha (Harris) and Delta Sigma Theta (Fudge).
Both organizations date to the early 20th century and continue to engage in advocacy and community service. Indeed, the National Urban League, a historic civil-rights organization, was founded as a service group to assist Black newcomers from the South adapt to Northern city life.
Philanthropy’s special role is both to preserve and to expand access to great private and public institutions. Fulfilling this role inherently means supporting an American system that is imperfect in practice but holds the promise of enabling all in their pursuit of happiness. Charitable giving, as actually practiced, reflects continued support for this socioeconomic and cultural system and our belief — as saccharine as it may sound — in the American Dream.
