In 2006, my foundation helped release commercials in cities across Colorado that featured Norman, a playful brown-and-white Brittany spaniel puppy that mooed like a cow. The campaign was intended to start a conversation about what it meant to be different — to be gay — and whether it was a choice.
And did it work? The results were mixed. We received a lot of positive feedback, but it also inspired an extremely negative countercampaign from Focus on the Family about a dog named Sherman. (“He barks.”) Ultimately, however, a referendum banning same-sex unions in the state constitution passed a few months after the release of our campaign. It wasn’t Norman’s fault, but he didn’t seem to help much.
There’s a concept in tech, and specifically in mathematics, called “iteration.” The idea is to run a certain experiment, learn from your failure, adjust the experiment, and try again. It’s the basis of the scientific method, and the key is to acknowledge and embrace failure. Indeed, if you see no failures, then you may have misdesigned your system.
When I established the Gill Foundation 25 years ago, it was my heart that brought me to the fight for LGBT equality after Colorado banned nondiscrimination protections for gay people, making me and my community second- class citizens. But as a mathematician, and coming from the tech world, I approached advocacy with my head, turning to what I knew: iteration.
We tried traditional ways of reaching people. And when that didn’t work, we turned to experimentation. We failed. We refined. We collaborated with innovative nonprofits and grassroots movements around the country, and when we found winning tactics, we funded and spread them widely wherever we could.
At its best, philanthropy is the marriage of heart and head — a passion to make lasting, meaningful change paired with targeted financial strategy. Without either pillar, efforts can flounder, especially when the goal is too big or undefined, when the horizon is too long, or when the desired outcome lacks a clear path to success. We’ve seen good people and organizations put their name and capital on the line only to find embarrassment and criticism. Sometimes these critiques are fair, and sometimes they aren’t. Either way, they remind us that good intentions never make progress alone.
Still, the ability to experiment and risk failure is not a flaw of philanthropy; it’s a feature. Experimentation is not something the government with all the attendant political pressures and built-in biases could ever do.
When people ask me how LGBT advocacy groups achieved such remarkable advances for equal rights at such an unprecedented pace — even as we were routinely outspent by opposition with operational budgets three times our size — iteration is my answer. From marriage equality to LGBT protections in the Affordable Care Act, our movement — which has always been supercharged by tireless grassroots advocates — has aimed for specific, concrete, and verifiable results.
We’ve taken creative approaches, like Norman, and, yes, we’ve failed at times. Each failure, however, taught us something new about how to share our experiences, how to mobilize our constituents and supporters, and how to make the case for equality. We learned and kept fighting with relentless dedication, and through this process, we turned the tide of public opinion and set the stage for legislative and judicial victories.
Today, rights that once seemed inconceivable are the law of the land.
If we had waited for the government to enact marriage equality on its own, we would still be waiting today. The status quo never changes by itself; it requires activists and philanthropists to provide an alternative way, to demand growth and progress.
It takes vigilance as well. There is no guarantee that legislators or judges will defend the rights we’ve secured. And though we celebrate our progress, LGBT people have more battles yet to win. These last few years have often felt like we’ve taken one step forward and two back. In many states, two women can get married in the morning and be fired from their jobs for their relationship by the afternoon.
Fifty years after the Stonewall Riots, nationwide nondiscrimination protections still elude us.
As we inch closer to equality for all LGBT Americans, our opponents dream up new ways to shut us out of it, threatening our livelihoods, our health, and our homes. They, too, are learning to adapt with every victory we win, and we should all see their fearmongering about transgender people as an intentionally designed attack on all LGBT people. Only a sustained, strong, agile LGBT movement will be able to defend our hard-earned rights and continue to build on our successes.
I am confident, however, that we are up to this task.
Over these last years, more LGBT voices have fought to be heard, and we have watched our community shine. We broke through the false divisions between people of faith and us, helping millions of our LGBT siblings find pride in their places of worship while empowering allies to stand up for their friends, families, and fellow congregants. And we’ve built a new generation of philanthropists who are ready to meet whatever challenges await us.
That was the Gill Foundation’s aim when we launched OutGiving in 1996, a biennial convening of passionate donors committed to advancing equality for LGBT people. As a result, hundreds of donors give more strategically and more generously to improve the lives of LGBT people today.
Transformative change, by its very nature, will never be easy. And we cannot depend on judges, lawmakers, or administrations to be catalysts. That’s why philanthropy is vital to the future of our movement and our nation. That’s why we need people who are passionate enough to give with their hearts; grounded enough to lead with their heads; and courageous enough to take risks, fail, and never give up.
More than a decade after Norman hit the airwaves, I take my dog for a walk with my husband, Scott. Our dog is the kind that doesn’t moo — and in my home state, we are just another married couple. It’s both mundane and remarkable, and I am reminded of the enormous privilege it has been to be a part of this movement.
I am grateful for the opportunity to use my time and money to fight for freedom for all LGBT people. Seeing those investments come to fruition has been the greatest honor of my life.
Tim Gill is a software entrepreneur who established the Gill Foundation in 1994.