Tag Archives: reviews

Why ‘networked nonprofits’ are better advocates

Posted on December 6, 2010 by | 2 Comments

Who likes presents?

First (drumroll, please!), the holidays have arrived at Classroom to Capitol!

At the end of this week, everyone who has commented on one of The Networked Nonprofit posts will be entered, at random, in a drawing (chosen blindly by my wonderful husband) to win a free copy of the book. I’ll even pay to ship it to you!

So, read away, leave your thoughts, and get ready for a present! You are all a gift to me!

What I like best about The Networked Nonprofit, co-written by authors whose own blogs I read regularly, is their clear view of social media as a set of tools to help in our common quest for social change, rather than gadgets to be worshipped in their own right.

They urge nonprofit practitioners to use social media to change the way we think, not just the way we communicate, and that has me thinking (see–it works!) about how organizations that embrace social media as part of their strategy are more likely to also possess some of the attributes (or, at least, be open to them) that make organizations successful at advocacy, too.

Some of this is certainly “chicken and the egg”–are organizations already predisposed to hold these ways of looking at the world, and their work, or does engaging their communities via social media bring about these transformations? The answer, I think, is probably some of both, but I’m most interested in the idea that integrating social media into an organization’s repertoire could better position its Board of Directors, executive staff, and entire set of stakeholders to approach advocacy, too.

There were several points in the book when Kanter and Fine describe, and even sort of define, ‘networked nonprofits’, and it sounds a lot like how I talk about organizations that are advocacy-oriented vs. those that are more in the “band-aid business”.

Some examples:

  • Simplicity and transparency: I’ve often had nonprofits tell me that they could never take on advocacy because they’re too small, but, in my practice, those smaller, more nimble organizations have a much easier time taking bold stances (even if they don’t have too many resources to put into campaigns) than those with complex structures and complicated hierarchies.
  • Organizational culture that accepts the inevitability of failure and the utility of risk: I know that I have a lot more work to do with an executive when he/she talks to me about a fear that the organization might fail in its advocacy efforts. The reality, of course, is that they absolutely will fail, that advocacy fails much more often than not, and that organizations need to construct campaigns where there will be some victory (in constituents empowered or policymakers enlightened or reputations enhanced) in the midst of failure.
  • Real curiosity and commitment to listening: The best advocates I know are great listeners; they know what policymakers, in particular, are trying to tell them, and they convey a sense of really wanting to understand others’ perspectives, rather than only trying to broadcast their own message.
  • Integrity and reciprocity: Another concern that I hear sometimes, especially from Boards of Directors, is a fear that their organizations will be pulled into “other people’s issues”. Again, the answer is “of course”, but that’s not a bad thing. Kanter and Fine talk about the concept of “karma banking”, which we think of in advocacy as “coalition-building”–if I’m there to support your domestic violence legislation today, you’ll stand with me on restrictive proposals regarding immigrants’ eligibility for social services. And we can trust each other on that.

    Obviously, advocacy and social media don’t correlate 1:1 in the nonprofit world: there are organizations excelling at advocacy through “old-fashioned” grassroots organizing and time-consuming relationship-building with policymakers, and there are organizations that are using social media incredibly effectively, but only to raise money, recruit volunteers, or promote their own work, not to change the policy environment that impacts their constituents.

    Still, there’s enough overlap that it’s making me think a bit differently about how I approach nonprofits on both of these fronts, and about how tackling one could reduce the gap to be hurdled for the other.

    What about your organization? If you’re involved in advocacy but not using social media, what’s holding you back from using these tools? If you’re fully on the Facebook, Twitter, and Foursquare bandwagons, but not doing advocacy, why not? And if you’re doing neither, what aspects of your organization do you see as the biggest obstacles?

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    Posted in My New Favorite Thing

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    Off limits? Social work ethics and negative campaigns

    Posted on November 1, 2010 by | Leave a comment

    The author of The Political Brain alleges, in regards to negative campaigns, or those that are primarily based on personal appeals rather than calculated facts:

    “There is no relation between the extent to which an appeal is rational or emotional and the extent to which it is ethical or unethical. Every appeal is ultimately an emotional appeal to voters’ interests–what’s good for them and their families–or their values–what matters to them morally” (p. 14).

    I think this whole question is important, not just at election time, but in terms of the ethics of social work advocacy, too, because, really, the kinds of claims that candidates lodge at each other during campaign season are not often that dissimilar than those lobbied (or, in some cases not) by opposing camps in a policy debate.

    And it’s not a question that’s easily resolved, at least not for social workers, who have to wrestle with this even a little more than others who adhere to an ethic of honesty and integrity, but not necessarily to the strictures of the NASW Code of Ethics.

    But, after spending quite a bit of time reading through our Code, and grappling with the literature (such that it is) on ethics and integrity in social work, I come back to the same place where I started, not too far from this author:

    Negative campaigns are not necessarily unethical. They certainly can be, but so can “positive” ones, to the extent to which they are misleading, or unfair, which is certainly not the exclusive purview of “attack” tactics.

    Our Code of Ethics requires more than just the factual honesty that is the key dividing line for many, though: we have a responsibility to respect the dignity and worth of every person, including the candidate (or elected official, or opposing advocate) in question, whose denigration might advance our cause.

    But because we know that eliciting strong emotions is key to influencing opinion, and because of the stakes involved in the electoral and policy campaigns in which we’re involved, failing to use the most effective tools at our disposal could, in fact, be seen as even more ethically ‘suspect’ than an attack which is carefully constructed so as to be persuasive but not manipulative, powerful but not vindictive, and compelling but not “truthy”.

    Obviously, in the electoral and policy arenas, social workers will have to make our own judgment calls about how to make these ethical decisions. But it’s clear that our Code of Ethics doesn’t mean to tie our hands so that we can’t, for example, expose the inconsistencies between a candidate’s voting record and stump speech, or label as racist the stereotypes emanating from the debate over Arizona’s anti-immigrant profiling bill.

    There are certainly ample examples of unethical campaigning–unethical by anyone’s standards.

    And then there are those, which, while technically true, would not meet social work’s standards, which require us to take into account the humanity of those who would be our adversaries.

    And, then, there is the failure of some social workers to boldly speak truth to power, using the Code of Ethics almost as a shield, to save us from the uncomfortable work of going after those who seek to harm the populations our profession has called us to defend.

    Now that’s unethical.

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    The Power of Half

    Posted on September 7, 2010 by | Leave a comment

    Note: If you like free stuff, you’ll want to make sure to read all the way to the bottom of this post! If, you know, you’re into that kind of thing.

    Last Thursday, I attended the kick-off campaign event for the United Way of Wyandotte County (you can take the girl out of the ‘Dotte’, but, you know…). The keynote speaker was the author of The Power of Half.

    It is really quite an inspiring book; the core message of the authors (Kevin, the father, who I heard speak last week, and his teenage daughter, who was really the impetus for the family’s decision to sell their extravagant house and give half the proceeds to fight poverty and hunger, which is obviously the theme of the book) is that we all can and should be doing more to create a just society for others, and I found quite a bit that relates to my own life.

    There are two pieces I found lacking, and I’ll get to those at the end, but, first, what I really like:

  • Commitment to involve children as equal partners in these family decisions: I’m always looking for more ways to empower my kids to see themselves, even at such young ages, as people who have a great deal to offer the world, but also a tremendous responsibility to serve it, and these parents’ journey to include their children in such critical family choices is truly admirable.
  • Emphasis on not just treasure, but also time and talents: Sometimes writing a check is the easiest thing we can do, when it may be our skills, or just our presence, that can have a greater impact. This family wanted to really transform their lives, and that meant changing how they lived, not just how they spent.
  • Recognition that giving sacrifically comes with a social price: The family related the chasms that opened, even among extended family, when they announced their plans. This reiterates the pull of our consumer culture but also speaks to how people can feel threatened when confronted with another’s decisions to relate very differently to injustice experienced all around us.
  • Careful research and discernment in the giving process: The family didn’t just check Guidestar to see which organization spends the highest percentage on direct services (although this criterion did figure more prominently into their decision than I would have liked–it’s outcomes that really matter). They interviewed organizations and, most importantly, tapped into their own passions and anger in order to best focus their efforts.
  • Celebration of the joys of connecting to the world: The book chronicles the family’s “sacrifices” and relates with real authenticity their surprise at not feeling them as such. We all know that we could be happier with less, and they really seem to have lived this.
  • Focus on process: They journal extensively, celebrate each step of their progress, and relate honestly how they’ve changed as individuals and as a family as a result of these decisions. For someone who tends to rush to the conclusion, this was an important reminder that how we get there does matter.
  • Realization that our moral witness matters most: The family is somewhat shocked to find that, when they get to Africa, they’re mostly wanted as supports to the local work going on, and as testimony to the power of the model being applied. They had hoped to build schools or…something. But this is empowerment, and it’s another example of how we gain so much by giving in the right ways.

    So, really, there’s so much about which to rejoice here. But, of course, I have those two critiques:

  • First, I’m always disappointed to find that I’ve already “given up” most of what people consider to be the essentials that they’re sacrificing in order to give more. We already chose to have a smaller house, and we don’t have nice cars or even cable television. I know that we need to give more, but I’m a little lost about where to start, when accounts like these can’t totally be my guides.
  • And, finally, despite the experiences in Africa and the power of their accompaniment, despite writing about how local leaders are learning to insist that government be accountable for providing necessary services, there is no discussion about how the family could have used their considerable power within their own community to advocate for policy changes that could have had a much larger impact than even their substantial dollars. This is a missing piece, and part of what giving of our time and talents has to mean–using our relative positions of power in the world to advocate for changes in our government policy that will impact the problems that plague the globe.

    I want to know what you think, about your own efforts to do with less so that others can have more, about how families can be forces for social change, about the role that wealth accumulation plays in shaping how Americans see their place in the world…and I’m willing to give away something to make it happen, in the true Power of Half spirit.

    Here’s the deal: I got a free copy of the book for attending, but I already had it, so that I could read it in advance, which means that I now have a copy to give away.

    Leave a comment, either in response to this post, in response to my earlier post about The Life You Can Save, or about how you could change your life in order to create a more just society for others, and I’ll randomly choose someone to receive the book. I’ll even send it to you. How’s that for karma banking?

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    Posted in Inspiration and Examples

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    Teaching my kids to look

    Posted on August 24, 2010 by | 2 Comments

    The Omnivore’s Dilemma was one of those books that I really should have read so long ago. It was beginning to be embarrassing. I finally just had to clear some time on my calendar to read it.

    I feel so much better now, except, of course, for the resurgence of guilt and angst about what to feed my kids, and how, and the ways in which the choices that I make every single day contribute, or don’t, to the industrial food system that has serious ramifications for our planet, our health, and our future.

    Except this post isn’t about that.

    No, while the whole book was excellent, the two pages that I marked related to the author’s assertion that, key to making ethical choices about the food we eat, is the action of looking.

    He argues convincingly that it’s the ignorance, the blind eye turned so that we can try to forget the realities of how our food gets to us or what that means, that holds the greatest sin…that, if we really take a hard look, and can live with what we see, then we’re making a conscious choice that can be defended.

    And that’s what I’ve been thinking about most.

    About looking, and really seeing, and how very many things we pretend not to see, or even really can’t see anymore, because we have forgotten where to look, or never learned, or wouldn’t recognize if we saw. And it’s that not looking that really does lie at the root of so much of the injustice we perpetrate in our world…the cruelty, intentional and not, whose consequences we never have to see, the unfairness that doesn’t look so unfair when you’re only seeing from your own perspective, the ease with which we can deny another’s humanity when we refuse to look eye-to-eye.

    And, so, it’s that aim to which I dedicate myself, as a mom who cares very deeply not only about social justice writ large, but also about raising children who will contribute to that justice and who will find their own ways to stand on the right side of the critical questions of their day, whatever they may be, but who also believes fervently in teaching those same children to use their own hearts and minds to make decisions and to arrive at their own conclusions about the world as it should be.

    Because, after all, I can’t force my kids to share my passions, nor would I want to. The way, really, that Michael Pollan can’t force everyone to be vegetarians, nor, as he compellingly illustrates, would that solve all of our food-related problems.

    But I can teach them to look.

    I can make sure that their little worlds get bigger as they grow, that there is room for people who are vulnerable and marginalized and often overlooked. I can teach them that we talk about people as people, that we value the dignity and worth of every human being, and that our every action has consequences.

    I can make sure that I don’t close my eyes. To the child with autism at the park whose tired grandfather can’t stop from throwing sand on my daughter. To the man living homeless who stands in front of the bookstore where we go to play trains. To the people in faraway countries whose daily lives are so different from mine, but whose dreams should matter just as much.

    And as we look, together, I can hope that they will see. And I can hope that, as a result, what we’ll all see together will start to change.

    Starting, with a look.

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    Posted in Background Reading

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    Is a Feminist Uprising the Traditional Ninth Anniversary Gift, or the Modern?

    Posted on August 18, 2010 by | 8 Comments

    Today is my wedding anniversary.

    Which, in retrospect, is perhaps not the best time to finally get around to reading Susan Faludi’s Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women.

    Anyway, the combination of the anniversary and the book, and my continued thinking about motherhood and women’s struggles for equality and justice and health and peace…have me thinking about what a truly pro-women policy agenda would look like, and what such a movement would mean for families, the nation, and our social work profession.

    Women’s experiences in our society are distinct, and we need political power that recognizes that, demands policies that support us, and changes the expectations that we have internalized, which, after all, is what the backlash is really about: making women police ourselves, so that no one else even needs to consciously repress us.

    And I think that all of that is tremendously important, which I why I read blogs like MomsRising and Feministing, why I include content in my policy classes about “gendered budgets” and how social welfare policy has oppressed women, and why I think that we need policy reforms that give women real options and real equity and real authority. Absolutely.

    But, on this day, my thoughts are really more on my own journey as a woman, how the personal is always political and, for me, the political is personal now, too. I’m thinking about how I couldn’t see how sexism and proscribed gender roles impacted my life until I was a married woman, largely because I had bought into the conceit of exceptionalism. I’m thinking about how many people have nodded sympathetically (approvingly?) when I said that I quit my full-time job because I missed my kids too much when I was traveling, and how their reactions affirm the backlash at work: “see, another woman who tried to have it all and thought better of it.” I’m thinking about how my wonderful husband, who had to actually show me where we get things dry cleaned when I first went to part-time work (because I never, ever got off work in time to go to a dry cleaners before!) has only made dinner a few times in the past three years. I’m thinking about how nice it would be, at least sometimes, to be the one to rush off to work in the morning, and about how much I miss the recognition and respect that came with a more prominent job. I’m thinking about how many mothers at the park say “lucky” when I tell them that I work part-time, and how many of my full-time employed friends say the same. I’m thinking about how our own social service organizations fail in creating the kinds of jobs that work for working mothers, and about how many times I asked for more help so that I could cut my hours back, before I quit. I’m thinking about how glad I am that my son told me, “when I’m older, sometimes I’ll have to get off work early to pick up my kids because my wife will be at work,” and how to make sure that he sees all of me, not just the Mommy side. I’m thinking about how many people told me to “work less” when I couldn’t get pregnant, and how no one told my husband that. I’m thinking that many of the same groups that attack women’s right to an abortion attack the technologies that helped us build our family, too, and about how my grief cemented my commitment to women’s full spectrum of reproductive freedoms. I’m thinking about the kind of example that I may have inadvertently set for the young immigrant women with whom I organized when I stepped back from that work…and about how missing my kids can be construed as a statement about something entirely different.

    And, because I’m an organizer and a policy geek, I’m also thinking that I bet most of those moms at the park would agree that they do more than their fair share at home, want better options in the labor market, and reject being labeled as “just stay-at-home moms”, and I’m wondering how many would self-identify as feminists. I’m thinking about how to build a movement that can change the frames that constrain women’s lives, because “pro-family” shouldn’t mean “turn the clock back”, “gender-neutral” almost never is, and no one ever nods knowingly at working fathers who “try to have it all”. And I’m thinking personally, too, about how my wedding vows included the phrase “work with you for justice and peace in our home and in our world”, and about what building a truly equitable partnership looks like, every day. I’m thinking about that agenda: equal pay and equal education and some things that must be distinctly unequal–reproductive choice and affirmative action and economic support for single mothers. And I’m thinking about how to make sure that my kids, especially my daughter, grow up in a society that supports women in a multitude of roles, having broken through the backlash for good.

    And I’m thinking, too, happy anniversary, honey. I swear.

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    Posted in Analysis and Commentary

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    How we got the New Deal, and why we always need a list

    Posted on August 3, 2010 by | Leave a comment

    List, via Flickr Commons

    My favorite scene from the book The Woman Behind the New Deal is in the prologue, when Frances Perkins comes to her meeting with Franklin Roosevelt with a handwritten list of all of the initiatives she wanted to push, if she would agree to become his Secretary of Labor.

    It was a list which, for her, represented the only things worth taking on such a monumental job, so exposed to public scrutiny. For him, then, it was a sort of litmus test–if he wouldn’t agree to back her policy vision, he wouldn’t have her as his Labor Secretary.

    For us, the list was nation-changing.

    A 40-hour workweek, minimum wage, workers’ compensation, unemployment insurance, a federal ban on child labor, Social Security…all radical ideas then that have since become core aspects of our social policy structure and defining components of the modern social contract.

    There are two fundamental lessons to come from this almost-apocryphal story:

  • We need a list.
    Sometimes we advocates for social justice are so sure that the world is against us, so convinced that our causes are hopeless, so enamored of fighting uphill battles, that we fail to ask ourselves what we’d want if someone really offered us the chance. What seems impossible today, that we’d really like to have by tomorrow? What’s our list of our top 3 priorities, or even top 5 or 10, towards which all of our work, every day, should be focused? What would we do with tons of power, if we got it?

    Stop for a minute. Write your list, if you don’t already have one. Carry it around. And be ready–you never know who might want to see it.

  • Lists aren’t enough.
    In the completion of that same vignette later in the book, Roosevelt says to Frances as she leaves, “I suppose you’ll nag me about this forever.” (p. 124) Frances realizes that he hopes that it will be so; he knows that the country needs and deserves the changes she’s outlined, but he lacks the political courage or strength of conviction to insist on them. He has chosen her not just for the vision represented in that list, but also for the knowledge that she will force him to live up to his promises.

    The lesson for us in that is that, if we’re spending all of our time thinking through what changes we want to see in the world, we may not be cultivating the relationships and the power that we’ll need to see them realized.

    Imagine if all she’d had with her was a reminder to pick up milk!

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    Al Smith was right: why we need an inside game

    Posted on August 2, 2010 by | Leave a comment

    In The Woman Behind the New Deal, the author reveals a conversation between Frances Perkins and long-time Tammany Hall politician, Al Smith.

    Frances is trying to decide whether to accept a government position on the Industrial Commission. It would allow her to reform working conditions through the vehicle of a government entity with authority to force changes, he asserts. She demurs, not convinced that being a part of an admittedly imperfect (even corrupt) government is the best place for a social work reformer.

    “Smith chided her. ‘If you girls are going to get what you want through legislation, there better not be any separation between social workers and the government.’” (p. 77)

    When Frances relates the offer to her friend and mentor, social worker Florence Kelley, Kelley’s response was, “‘Glory be to God…I never though I would live to see the day when someone that we had trained and who knew industrial conditions, cared about women, cared to have things right, would have the chance to be an administrative officer!” (p. 77)

    Frances, obviously, took the job, which helped to launch a lifetime of service to workers through the medium of government service.

    With the benefit of history, it’s so clear that, for her, working within the government was the best place from which to enact the reforms so important to her and, ultimately, to the country.

    And that’s why this anecdote about her ambivalence is so important, and so instructive.

    What is it about social workers that makes us, often, so reluctant to enter this “inner sanctum”–the halls of government where so many of the policies that influence so much of our work, and our world, are made?

    Is it our noted discomfort with power? A concern that getting too close will compromise our ethics? Unfamiliarity with the policymaking process, that makes us feel incapable of rendering excellent service in that realm? Preference for the less formal work settings of nonprofit organizations? Inadequate guidance to steer us towards government service as a career path? All of the above?

    There’s certainly a case to be made for the outside agitator: no social movement was ever fomented exclusively by government employees, and none is likely to ever be.

    But when we think about all of the policymaking that happens through regulations, which are largely controlled by unelected bureaucrats, and when we think further about the access and influence that these bureaucrats have with elected officials, and about the media platform that those well-positioned within administrations have, to shape discussion of issues and establishment of the social policy agenda, then it seems obvious that we need some of “our people” on the inside, too.

    And what better way to get “our people” there, than by having at least some of us (read: social workers committed to social justice) go, ourselves?

    If you’re a social worker in government service now, what obstacles do you encounter in your quest for social justice? If you’re considering government work as a part of your career, what considerations are you weighing? If you’re a committed “outsider”, why? And what should social work education be doing to prepare social work advocates for successful reform work both within and without government institutions?

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    I wish I was a Millennial: the generation that could turn it around

    Posted on July 6, 2010 by | Leave a comment

    So, now that you’ve watched fireworks explode, enjoyed time with family and friends, and celebrated the democratic traditions that make this country great, it’s time to turn our attention to the reality that it is time, again this year, to make it great again: It’s an election year!

    This week and next, Classroom to Capitol will focus on electoral trends, issues, and strategies that, together, can set the foundation for successful enactment and implementation of the progressive policies about which social workers so deeply care. We know that it does matter who is elected, that our clients’ voices will be heard differently by different elected officials, and that participation in electoral processes, in itself, holds potential to change clients’ lives. Primaries are less than a month away in many states, and it will be November before we know it. Ya es hora!

    Image credit, futuremajority.com

    When I read Millennial Makeover, I couldn’t stop thinking about my cousin Caleb. He’s a junior in high school and chair of “Coalition”, which is an organization started by some peers a couple of years ago to…combat child slavery and human trafficking around the world. Seriously. They mainly hold fundraisers: selling concessions at football games, organizing concerts, hosting a 5K…and now they’re getting into advocacy, too. They use social media prolifically (I know, because I’m friends with him on Facebook!) And they make sure that all of their members register to vote when they’re 18. I mean, I was pretty hard-core social justice as a teenager, and I wasn’t involved in anything like this. It’s awesome. And, according to generational experts, it’s a movement.

    Millennial Makeover has to be the most optimistic book I’ve read in a long time. It’s like being with Caleb and his friends for an afternoon–they use some acronyms that I don’t immediately understand, but their enthusiasm for justice and fervent belief that they can help to achieve it is infectious. Here, the authors assert that the Millennials are a ‘civic’ generation, characterized by an orientation to societal challenges, problem solving, and institution building. They point to the 2008 Presidential election as a highpoint in this generational cycle (actually begun a few years earlier)–rising voter participation, unprecedented involvement by young voters, and positivism about the role of government in improving people’s lives. And they claim that, historically, most generational shifts like this last about 40 years.

    Not yet convinced that’s there’s reason to be excited? The authors point to the New Deal and the presidency of FDR as the last civic realignment, and we know what that period did for social workers and the causes we care about.

    I won’t try to restate all of the considerable (and really fascinating) evidence the authors include to draw comparisons between the GI Generation (the last civic generation) and the Millennials (relative diversity, adoption of new technologies, group orientation). Perhaps the most important parallel, for electoral purposes, is the most obvious one: both generations are larger than the ones immediately preceding them. That means that, quite soon, the Millennials will be big enough to make their preferences dominant, which is why it’s important for social work advocates and organizers to understand what those preferences are and how to mobilize them. We know that demographics are not destiny, though, and that social movements are built and sustained, not magically derivative of vital statistic patterns.

    So, what we need to “get” about Millennials to build electoral and broad-based movements that will make their power felt:

  • The old divisions don’t work–we need new coalitions.
    Identity politics will have to evolve to resonate with Millennials, whose social lives don’t break down along the same lines. While, importantly, Millennials’ neighborhoods and schools are highly segregated, their own attitudes about race, sexual orientation, and gender roles are much more egalitarian than current generations in power, which opens up considerable opportunity for progressive policy, but only if we can find new ‘hooks’ to bring people into politics (around ideas, not identity).

  • They’re not just shiny new gadgets–they’re whole new ways of connecting.
    We know that nonprofits, campaigns, and social movements will fail to authentically engage Millennials (and, quite possibly, anyone) if we view social media and other emerging technologies as just new platforms on which to broadcast our same messages. Millennials just don’t relate to technology that way; Caleb hardly ever buys CDs and rarely even subscribes to e-newsletters, but he shares weblinks and photos and other content through social media all the time, and creates his own content, too, around the justice issues he’s passionate about.

  • They’re not kids, and their ways of doing things are just as valid.
    There has been some good debate in the nonprofit world about how organizations (including the Generation X and Baby Boomers who currently control them) need to adjust some of their practices and behaviors to be more open to Millennial participation and influence. Candidates and campaigns will have to learn this, too. Some might dismiss this as pandering, but I think it’s essential that we ask ourselves two questions: first, aren’t there some significant ways in which the “Millennial way” of doing things is actually superior to current practice (um, transparent, relational?) and, second, what do we possibly have to gain from alienating a large group of enthusiastic advocates/voters for many of our causes? Exactly. For me, the biggest challenge of this will be getting decentralization right–you know how I feel about devolution for its own sake, but Millennials will want to see nimble and responsive organizations (and government), and they’ll have good evidence on their side from all of their experiments with collaborative decision-making.

  • This is not a phase; it’s a shift.
    There’s considerable data that the political orientations of a generation are much less pliable than some would think; in other words, today’s 20-year-olds are likely to have many of the same core values when they’re 40. And 70. For many Millennials, for example, their belief in the importance of a strong government was cemented by the 9/11 terrorist attacks and the current economic recession, both of which occurred during their formative years. Our challenge, then, is to connect our policy issues to these core values in a way that will resonate–as usual, framing is key.

    So, Millennials, I know you’ll have something to say about all of this! How do you view your world? And these 2010 elections? How are the organizations where you’re working, volunteering (in record numbers!), and advocating including you and your peers (or not)? How can we ‘get it right’, to turn it around?

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    Posted in My New Favorite Thing

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    Philanthrocapitalism, Part II

    Posted on June 29, 2010 by | Leave a comment

    So you read yesterday that I might be coming around, at least a little, to this idea of the role that philanthropy, at least that which is strategic, focused on solving serious social problems, and embedded in a truly progressive tax code, can play in our quest for social justice.

    So you knew that there was a “but”. And here it is. The ironic thing, though, is that some of these very same ‘philanthrocapitalists’ are offering the same cautions, the same caveats, to which I now turn. Maybe there’s hope for me to be a billionaire someday after all. Or not.

    I love it that Bono told the authors of Philanthrocapitalism, “as great as some of the philanthropists in your book are, the real change comes from social movements” (p. 12). And it appears that he’s not alone. “A growing number of philanthrocapitalists are realizing that one of the most effective ways to leverage their money to change the world is to use it to shape how political power is exercised” (p. 240). Exactly. And that’s the point about this new emphasis on the new philanthropy that advocates of social justice cannot afford to forget; there is no way that people in poverty, those who have been excluded and marginalized around the world, will ever get what they truly deserve as a voluntary donation from those who have so much. AND, there’s no way that we’ll solve the serious social problems facing our planet (or even just our community) with just a collaboration between people in need and even the most enlightened rich person; we need the resources of our public structures on our side too.

    And only movements move those mountains. The kind of movements that a reliance on philanthropy will subvert.

    Social work has to acknowledge our own less than pristine history in this area: The Charity Organization Society, part of the heritage of our great profession, worked in Victorian England to keep government out of the business of helping the poor, arguing that such work was best done by philanthropy (and, of course, them). Even today, social workers can be guilty of that attitude–discouraging the kinds of universal approaches that seek to prevent social injustices because they may erode the need for our professional intervention. And we are willing to overlook the unscrupulous business practices of companies that write checks for our fundraisers, play up to the foundations who make us jump through unreasonable hoops, and rationalize spending way more time applying for grants than trying to change the world…because that’s the way that the system works now.

    So the part of the discussion about this new philanthropy that excites me the most is that, increasingly, philanthropists and foundations seem to get this, seem to know that they can’t do it alone, and seem willing to invest in trying to seed the kind of social change that can set the stage for real transformation. The Gates Foundation partnered with other donors to build the Ed in ’08 Campaign, an effort to put nationwide education reform at the center of the 2008 presidential campaign. They largely didn’t succeed, but, then, that’s sometimes how agenda setting starts. They’re not backing away from it, though, claiming that advocacy on several issues will be an increasingly critical part of their strategy in the coming years. The Omidyar Network’s (my husband thanks you for eBay, by the way) investment portfolio includes strengthening governments, in the belief that “effective government is crucial to social impact”. It even gave up tax advantages in exchange for the ability to engage in political campaigning to advance its goals. The Skoll Foundation has taken a more indirect route, making movies with a social message to change the public debate.

    I’m not worked up about this philanthropic engagement in politics and governmental reform being “an age of plutocracy”. Seriously–isn’t there ample evidence of the far more malicious role that money is playing in our political system today? It probably goes without saying, however, that this does not a movement make.

    An effort like DATA comes closer, since its work centers around using popular culture to bring people (mostly Millennials) to the anti-poverty cause. And it had significant impact, winning historic debt cancellation and raising the consciousness of a generation. After all, building a movement requires changing people’s hearts, and it’s indisputable that rock stars have easier initial access there than do social workers or community organizers or even charismatic politicians. They can put things on the agenda just by opening their mouths, and sometimes that’s an opening that can spark something far greater than they.

    We still have the make the road by walking. There are no real shortcuts that I’ve ever seen. But if philanthropy is increasingly willing to stock the rest stops along the way, and pack our backpacks with some of the provisions we’ll need, and buy us a really good map, well, then, we just might get there a little more quickly.

    Or, what, am I just going soft?

    photo credit, wobblycity, via Flickr

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