When Did Generosity Become So Sus?
When I see an announcement on social media that someone has given a big donation, I can’t help myself — I head to the comments. Half look something like, “thank you for caring about our community!” or “you are an amazing person!” The other half, a blatant admission of cynicism: “he has a lot more money than that!” or “this won’t make us forget how you made all of that money!”
This year I’ve taken a serious interest in exploring why the heck we are so suspicious of these things. It’s not the donation itself, right, but the donor, whose true intentions we’re examining?
Let’s acknowledge what prompts the negative comments. Giving charitable gifts can:
enhance one’s brand,
serve as reputation management and help bury bad news,
alleviate tax burden,
allow for virtue signaling,
and promote popularity, publicity, and generate a large following.
The question I’m grappling with is, how much does all of that even matter?
We judge philanthropists harshly, but we should observe the outcomes of generosity with great care and optimism.
PGA Gift Obligation
My husband and sons are avid golfers, so by extension, I am now a golf-following woman (mostly when it’s the final day of a major). The LIV Golf and PGA Tour tension was the talk of the dinner table as golfers made decisions on where to play, based in large part on compensation and competition. It was newsworthy when Brooks Koepka announced his return to the PGA Tour after spending over three years on LIV. As one of several conditions of reinstatement to the Tour, Koepka was required to make a $5M charitable contribution. He had financially benefited a great deal by joining LIV and the terms of his return to the PGA certainly felt fiscally-focused.
The news headlines weren’t that Koepka, a golfer and philanthropist, made a $5M commitment to multiple nonprofit organizations. Rather, the message felt more like, in order to be back in, Koepka has a public-good obligation. Reportedly, the PGA had a hand in the charitable decision making, including around gift structure and gift recipients.
Well, one person might say that Brooks paid for his self-interested return. Another could comment on how he benefited yet again from the tax advantages associated with $5M in charitable gifts. And another could be celebrating this large sum poured into the nonprofit-sphere and feel curious as to what the gifts have actually done. With $1M of the commitment dedicated to Nicklaus Children’s Health Care Foundation, we can assume that many kids have positively benefited from the philanthropy. Is knowing that enough?
Rockefeller’s Proof of Good
Way back when, did John D. Rockefeller use philanthropy for reputation management? Almost anyone can argue yes. But did that make the philanthropy less important?
Rockefeller built Standard Oil into a powerful corporation and simultaneously attracted considerable criticism as a businessman. His name was plagued by monopoly accusations, extreme wealth concentration, and a public relations disaster when people tragically lost their lives while striking one of his businesses.
Some say this shifted his approach to visible generosity — accelerating the way he moved beyond simple charity to systems-building philanthropy. I’m big on swimming upstream to solve problems, and in reality, that’s what he did: we can thank him (still today) for funding universities, medical and scientific research, and public health initiatives from which countless people have benefitted.
He had to prove he was good. Was he actually good? I don’t know, and I never will. But his charitable dollars went to the right places and whether or not we judge him as a donor, we must acknowledge the impact of his gifts.
Is Generosity Celebrated More than Interrogated?
Oof. Maybe not yet, but let’s get there. I don’t think generosity can be contaminated by the donor. One can argue against me by referencing the family held accountable for the opioid crisis: the Sacklers’ philanthropy generated applause which critics suggest partly absolved them of their wrong-doing. It’s notable that most nonprofits removed their last name from spaces recognizing their gifts. I get it — we’re really skeptical of motives. Let’s consider that some things can co-exist:
Quiet, anonymous philanthropy can be impactful and so can public, legacy-building philanthropy.
Self-interest can still be linked to real generosity.
A $50M gift to a cancer center from a humble cancer survivor is as impactful as a $50M gift to a cancer center from a highly-criticized billionaire.
I welcome the tension around public benefit and private benefit when it comes to big gift-giving. America has an opportunity to report more on exactly what will happen as a result of generosity, and less on who made the gift and what their motivations may have been.
Maybe you had to do it, but thanks, Brooks and John — may your loud gifts inspire more of them.