Hope about the future — and confidence in our capacity to influence it — are fundamental to the philanthropic deed.
After all, philanthropy is a tangible expression of hope for humanity, fueled by an individual’s confidence that their action will move the world closer to a desired future.
Yet many donors (even the most wealthy and powerful) harbor unspoken doubts in this area. This may seem surprising, but I’ve heard these themes over and over in my conversations with philanthropists.
Sometimes they are simply pessimistic about the future. Sometimes, they doubt their personal ability to influence the course of events through philanthropy.
Whatever the specifics, these kinds of doubts sure put the brakes on bold philanthropic investments.
That’s why nurturing hope and inspiring confidence should be at the heart of every advancement program.
(Just to be clear, I’m not talking about superficial “rah-rah, we can do it!” bravado. I’m talking about genuine hope and confidence, firmly grounded in experience.)
Yet when institutions design their programs of philanthropy, almost never is this idea given the attention it deserves.
Is there hope for the future?
Beliefs about the future held by any human system — a person, team, institution, community, culture, or civilization — have an enormous influence on how things turn out.
In his sweeping study of Western civilization, the Dutch sociologist and business leader Fred Polak argues that the positive image of the future is the single most important variable for understanding cultural evolution.
“The rise and fall of images of the future precedes or accompanies the rise and fall of cultures,” Polak writes.
“As long as a society’s image is positive and flourishing,” he continues, “the flower of culture is in full bloom. Once the image begins to decay and lose its vitality, however, the culture does not long survive.”
Inspiring pictures of the future emerge when people believe the future can be influenced — that is, when we know a difference can be made, and when we know we can make that difference.
Indeed, all human enterprise springs from these kinds of beliefs. This is particularly true of philanthropy and voluntary action.
Hope is strengthened when we talk about our dreams and wishes. When we take the time to sharpen and amplify them into bold proclamations of what we want to see happen in the world.
This kind of hope — founded in our deepest desires for the future — moves us from cynicism to idealism, from problems to potentials, and from passivity to action.
Do we believe we have it in us?
In everyday life, most individuals — and most institutions — are held back by the sense that their resources are limited.
Consciously or otherwise, this inhibits our imagination, vision, and enterprise. If our resources are limited, then our horizons must also be limited.
In fact, our resources — will, energy, and even money — are always more abundant than we can imagine.
By using strength-based approaches, such as The Philanthropic Quest, we can heighten our awareness of our resources and remove the limits that we’ve put on ourselves.
We can go to a place that is deeper than what we consciously know, deeper than our “skill banks.” We can tap into hidden resources — imagination, ingenuity, inspiration, faith in ourselves and in each other.
And we may just realize that we have everything we need to reach new heights. It’s all right there in front of us, waiting to be seen, appreciated, and developed.
I call this “grounded confidence.”
It’s in the same neighborhood as hope, but it rests on an even stronger foundation: Precise knowledge of where we’ve come from and who we are in our best moments. Keen awareness of the stuff of which we’re made.
When we open ourselves to all that we have going for us, we become aware that our choices are greater than we imagined, and we are emboldened to reach for those that matter most.
What happens when we choose to see assets and vitality?
When I asked her what led to the creation of an extraordinary independent school, one of the founders replied, “We were a group of people who had the time, talent, desire, energy and commitment, and we were dedicated to the education of our kids.”
Asked about the need for the school, she responded, “It didn’t come to mind. We just saw what we had to work with.”
We who invest ourselves in society often say that we are acting because we see a “need.” (Despite my writing more than 30 years ago in The Raising of Money that “organizations have no needs,” the language of needs still permeates the voluntary sector.)
But our actions say more about us than about the circumstances: We act because we have the desire and the capacity — and because it’s the kind of people we are.
Instead of seeing ourselves as reacting to needs, we can think of ourselves (and our donors) as bundles of resources looking for circumstances ripe for our contribution.
This perspective strengthens and expands our personal identities and our ability to contribute effectively to the common good.
Now, all of this may seem like a big leap from the familiar “statement of needs” in a typical “case for support.” But if you want to take your institution to a new level of influence and impact, that calls for new ways of thinking and doing.
What could be?
Underlying the ideas presented here is a solid body of research in management and in the social and behavioral sciences that shows we can get even better results from paying attention to our assets — to what we’re doing right — than from trying to figure out and fix what we might be doing wrong.
When we choose to see strengths, assets, and resources, we generate even more strengths, assets, and resources.
When we talk about what we have going for us, we build momentum to transcend the gravity of the status quo and the downward draw of deficit discourse.
Methods exist now to do this systematically. Along the way, enthusiasm and energy grows naturally among those with the greatest capacity to contribute to realizing the dreams that are generated.
Instead of us trying to persuade them, they are persuading themselves. When the time comes for the doing, they were already a part of the dreaming.
So if we want to dramatically advance the causes we care about, let’s ask ourselves: “What’s the best way to inspire, mobilize, and sustain the desire, will, and energy that people have built in?”
And then asset-based, generative, inclusive approaches, such as The Philanthropic Quest, become the clear choice.
What if we started looking for what’s right with the world and with the institution, rather than what’s wrong?
What if we honored our trustees and donors for what they have done, instead of feeling disappointed in what they haven’t done?
What if we searched for the place where pride lives within the institution, instead of the place where guilt resides?
All of what I’m suggesting takes a certain dose of courage and faith, especially in the face of your organization’s “needs” and the dominant discourse about fund raising.
It may be your heroic journey to take this path.
A journey that will draw upon all the experiences of a lifetime and demand the best you to have to offer, as a professional and as a human being.
I’m reminded of Dan Loritz, when he was chief advancement officer and a leader at Hamline University. In his breast pocket, he carried with him a sheet of paper, carefully folded.
The sheet was completely covered — in the smallest handwriting you can imagine — with his notes about all the great things the university had going for it. Dan tells me that he looked at it every day, to remind him of the university’s strengths and potentials.
You, too, can show up every day with authentic confidence and hope, supported by all you have going for you.
You can choose a distinctive way to be present, a way that changes the circumstances and opens up new possibilities for your donors, your institution, and for society at large.