6 min read

What if we gave away, like, a LOT? (a provocation-invitation)

On giving the change we wish to see in the world.
Map of the world with pins featuring the Giving Tuesday heart logo in every country.
In case you missed the memo… today’s Giving Tuesday. (Image credit: GivingTuesday.org)

A few weeks ago, I attended the annual Environmental Grantmakers Association conference for work. The first morning, as the high desert sun blazed outside, I sat in a windowless ballroom among several hundred other people, most of whom represented deep-pocketed foundation funders, listening to the fiery words of the keynote speaker. Saqib Bhatti, of Action Center on Race and the Economy, outlined the foundational attacks on democracy, people, and the planet the Trump regime is unleashing. Then, he didn’t mince words: 

“If any of you are waiting to spend down your endowments because you think there will be more urgent causes to fund,” he said, “you’re deluding yourself. Historians tell us most authoritarian regimes consolidate their power within the first 18 months. We’re halfway through that window. And so far, we haven’t done enough. If we don’t dig deep now, there won’t be causes to fund in the future. Give away more than you think you can.”

I think Saqib’s words apply to all of us—in different ways.

Today’s Giving Tuesday, the day when, after the frenzy of Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, and Cyber Monday—all of which have blended into a week-long weekend of Buy-This-Right-Now marketing slurry—our inboxes are flooded with worthy nonprofits asking us to remember them with our dollars, too. (Mine’s one of them!)

Not unrelatedly, we’re living in a time when people are asking: What can I do?

One thing we can do is give money. Giving counts as doing something. Especially giving more than usually feels comfortable—to match these discomfiting times.

At age 24, when I started my first big-boy job making $32,900 annually, I decided to start giving at least 10% of my income every month. It was a figure that sounded daunting. But I knew I wanted to make it a habit, and it worked. I budget for it. I do it. And it’s become one of the things in my life that consistently gives me great joy.

I share this not to brag about my generosity. I share it because I’m an organizer, and organizers try to bring other people into their activism—which, again, is what giving money can be.

I share it because I want it to not be noteworthy to invest as much money in people and community and humanity’s future as we’re told to invest in savings and retirement accounts for our own personal future. I want it to be the norm. I want everyone to share in the delight of giving away what feels like a lot of money, and I want to see how the world becomes a better place, faster, when those of us who care are giving the change we wish to see in the world—and giving a lot more than just the spare change—at a greater scale than ever before.

The important thing isn’t the number. That’s different for everyone.

For some people, that number is zero: if you’re facing economic hardship and genuinely can’t afford to give money right now, I’m not here to make you feel bad about that. Take care of your needs, and bookmark this post for the day when your circumstances change.

But if you, like me, have more than enough money to meet your basic needs, you can probably give away more than you think. Often a lot more, but everyone is unique. My 10% commitment is informed by a number of factors—including the very generous undergrad financial aid package I received that left me with no student debt. Everyone’s factors are different.

Here’s my pitch for giving away more than you believe you can:

  • There’s plenty of proof that altruism is psychologically rewarding. I experience it all the time: Sure, buying something for myself gives me a hit of dopamine. But buying something for someone else? That’s double dipping dopamine: the pleasure of spending money plus the pleasure of altruism.
  • Living in this world, we have to hand over cash or tap our cards every single day to fill the bank accounts of corporations that are acting in opposition to our values—whether that’s topping up the gas tank from corporations that have funded climate denial and political dysfunction, or buying clothes from corporations that use child labor, or feeding ourselves from corporations that pay their workers too little to feed themselves… the list goes on. It’s far rarer that we get to choose to hand over that money to organizations enacting our values in the world.
  • Those of us in the global top 1%—which, by one estimate, is any individual earning at least $60,000 annually—benefit from the rest of the world’s relative economic insecurity. Giving money, especially to causes that work in some way to end systemic inequality, isn’t charity—it’s a necessary rebalancing. (This reductive stat isn’t to say $60k makes someone rich in this country—that’s much more complicated—my point is to provide perspective.)
  • For many organizations, the primary factor limiting the impact they can have is money. Giving more money to a cause you care about means increased impact.
  • And it adds up. Supposedly intractable problems, like ending extreme poverty or ensuring universal drinking water access? Last year, the U.N. estimated the cost of the former at about $70 billion per year, and the cost of the latter at around $114 billion per year. This year, Americans are expected to have spent about $43.7 billion in the four days from Black Friday through Cyber Monday. If someone told me that, for less than three times the amount I spent on deals this weekend, we could have clean water for all…? No brainer.

I know what you’re thinking: Of course every American isn’t going to do this, and of course individuals can’t just pool our money to end poverty—governments have to do that—and, and, and. There are many ways to pick apart these points.

But stay with me: My real point is just that money is power, and those of us who have it should wield it more often, for good.

Which raises the question: How? As with the exact amount to give, it’s different for everyone. Here’s how I’ve come to think about it:

  • Give for systemic change: groups that are working to change the underlying conditions of the world—changing laws, challenging those in power, advancing a long-term vision.
  • And give to help those affected by the world as it is, pre-change: groups that shelter trans youth in your community, that feed hungry families, that visit forgotten seniors.
  • Give local: Often (not always), the more local the group, the smaller the budget, and the bigger the impact a gift makes.
  • And give national: The problems the U.S. faces can’t be solved by local activism alone. But beware the big names that you’ve always known about. It’s not that they don’t do good work; it’s that your donation probably means less to them than it does to lesser-known orgs who may have an outsized impact, but not the same budget for self-promotion.
  • And give international: Our problems aren’t unique to the U.S., and what our government does is hurting people around the world. We can make a bigger impact when we lift our gaze to the global context and act in solidarity with the rest of the world. (And often our gifts go farther outside the U.S.)
  • Give to people you love. And to strangers. This counts! (For my accounting, at least.) Giving gifts to real people is super joyful.
  • Don’t plan it all—so you can give for the things that emerge. I have a policy that whenever someone asks me directly to give to a cause they care about, I do. It doesn’t matter if it’s something that I otherwise wouldn’t prioritize; as long as it’s not actively at odds with my values, I give. My cousin’s son’s elementary school read-a-thon, my friend’s 5k fundraiser, my coworker helping out a relative fallen on hard times—if they took the time to make the ask, it’s important to them, and that’s good enough.

Just like an investment portfolio, I’m a big believer in a diversified investment-in-social-change portfolio. Change happens because a broad and varied ecosystem of organizations, movements, and individuals are doing brave, hard things. (Anyone who argues otherwise is probably either trying to get you to give to their cause only, or has a weak analysis of how change really happens.)

This doesn’t mean that every organization is strategic or worth our money. But trying to find the exact right place to donate can be a delay tactic, too. The important thing is: Set a goal—a goal that’s higher than feels comfortable (but won’t actually impose hardship!). Give away money that feels significant to you—and make some of it monthly and automatic. And delight in the impact of what you fund.

By the way, if you want recommendations for specific places to give, reach out. As you can see, I’ve thought a lot about this.

Maybe you’ve also thought a lot about this—maybe none of this is new to you. If that’s the case, I want to hear from you about it, too.

In launching Purple Titanic, I promised that it’d be a space for exploration, for anti-hot-takes. That wasn’t this post! I have strong feelings on this topic.

But… the attendees of the EGA conference gave Saqib a standing ovation after his fiery speech. Turns out, the crowd of foundation funders liked being reminded of their power to dig deep and give more. I’m hoping you’ll feel similarly.

Let me know what you think in the comments—and how you think about giving, and where you’re giving this year. Happy Giving Tuesday.

Love,

Ari