Raising investment capital…that ought’a be easy

I was speaking today to the executive director of a small and growing NGO that’s in the grant-giving business – they’re interested in getting into the loan-giving business.

I asked him why they wanted to make the shift, and he explained: to create a sustainable revenue stream; to create more accountability on the part of the grant recipients; to create a capital base that will allow the organization (and its impact) to grow over time; and because it would be easier to raise below-market debt than it is to raise grants.

I agreed on 3 out of 4 points.  The last one is tricky.

There’s a rational argument that says, if someone has to choose between giving money away with no prospect of financial return (a grant) and giving money away with the prospect of some return (a loan), the latter will be more appealing.  So it stands to reason that if you have a more (financially) attractive product, it will be easier to “sell” that product.

But that’s not necessarily how it plays out in practice.  What I think this misses is the different hats we all wear, and how much easier it is to walk well-worn paths than to blaze new ones.

Seasoned philanthropists are familiar with giving.  While each philanthropist makes decisions differently – and solicits advice and ideas from different people – a donor gives based on an (explicit or implicit) set of criteria that motivate her giving.   These criteria could be strategic, analytical, cerebral or intuitive, but giving philanthropically is a known and well-understood endeavor for this person.

At the same time, anyone who has amassed a certain amount of wealth no doubt has experience with and criteria for making investment decisions: the risks she’s willing to take, the amount of diversification she feels comfortable with, the people from whom she gets advice and with whom she pressure-tests investment ideas.

So long as you’re raising funds that fall in either of these two buckets, the rules of the game are known.  These are the well-worn paths.   But something that’s “the best of both” (not quite philanthropic, but not quite an investment) is in a murky middle, where criteria are not well-established, the stakeholders are ill-defined and not used to weighing this particular opportunity.  Suffices to say it’s not a layup.

I think this is important to recognize because there’s a lot of talk in our space about how investors / donors “will” behave, but these discussions often are framed analytically rather than building up from actual experience talking to donors about their own preferences.

How people “should” behave is one thing.  How they will behave is something else entirely.

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Let’s trade in these old stories

Roll the tape from my childhood TV screen: image of a 4 year old Ethiopian girl, ribs visible, distended belly, flies on her face, and a voice over, “For just 50 cents a day, you can feed this child.”

This story is  emotional, concrete, personal…and effective.  It accomplished its goal (getting people to donate).  But the aid did not get to the root of Ethiopia’s problems.   And the image of the poor, suffering, African child who needs to be saved is tremendously destructive.

This story, and its many cousins (the emotional appeal, focused on pity) were in vogue in the 1980s, and they got people to dig into their pockets to donate to international charities.  They also did a lot of harm.  They dehumanized people, creating an us/them mentality.  They fed on and into a  power imbalance.  They created distance rather than connection.   All of this in the service of getting someone to do something good.

The good news is that this storyline is mostly dead.  But there’s a newer version of this story that’s still pervasive, and it’s more subtle.  It’s the “here is what you’re buying with your money” story.  “For $10 you can buy a bednet that will save a life.”  “For $120 you can buy a goat that will feed a family.”  “For $5,000 you can dig a well that will provide safe drinking water.”

Here’s what worries me.  It is true that you can buy and deliver one bednet, one goat, or dig one well for $10, $120, or $5,000.  And as a donor you absolutely want to know that your money is being used well, and a concrete connection reinforces that feeling.

But just because the one story is true doesn’t mean it remains true when you play the same reel 1,000 times.  When you want to dig thousands of wells or provide livestock to millions of families, don’t things get a whole lot more complicated?  And, by the way, who came up with the technology to create that mosquito net?  Who is funding innovation to create the next, better solution?

We need better stories, ones that recognize that we are all interconnected.  Ones that put dignity and creativity and innovation at the center.  And ones that give space to create complex solutions to complex problems – while still giving people a sense that they are part of the solution.

I think part of the answer comes in replacing the somewhat misleading concreteness with membership and inclusion.  Your $15 is helping solve this problem.  And better yet, here are a bunch of other people who are also interested in being part of this same solution.

Let’s share our stories, why we care, what we hope to see accomplished, and what else we are doing to make the world a better place.

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A ‘sustainable’ revenue stream?

Hats off to Nell Edgington at the Social Velocity blog for a post titled “The Critical Alignment of Mission, Money and Competence,” which kicked off an interesting conversation between Nell, me, Sean Stannard-Stockton who writes the Tactical Philanthropy blog, Nathanial Whittmore who writes the Social Entrepreneurship blog for Change.org, and Kjerstin Erickson, the CEO of FORGE.

My first observation is that this discussion happened very quickly thanks to Twitter.  So I’ve realized that Twitter is here to stay for me, and that even if I’m not ready to commit to more than a 1-2 Tweets/day, Twitter enables very useful conversations that I’d miss if I gave it up.  So, if you’re interested in following, you can find me @sashadichter

On the substance of the discussion, there are two threads that I found particularly interesting:

1. The first thread centers on the risk many nonprofits run of their revenue model compromising mission.  The stark example is when a nonprofit ends up chasing funding dollars and makes small programmatic contortions for each subsequent grant (more on this here).  As I suggested to Kjerstin, your only hope as a nonprofit is if you start with a bright line that says you absolutely will not compromise mission at all to get funding…since even with this much clarity, you will still make the occasional compromise.  But if you start saying that some compromises are OK, you’ll be so far off mission in a year or two that you won’t recognize yourself or your organization.

2. The second thread was somewhat more subtle, and it centered around what it takes for nonprofits to have a “sustainable revenue model.”  When I read that phrase it implies “earned income,” which worries me because there are tons of nonprofits out there that do not and should not have a model that itself generates a significant revenue stream.   Which I why I commented that, “I sometimes feel like there’s an implicit notion in the (sometimes too theoretical) discussions of nonprofit funding models that downplays the fact that philanthropic dollars can beget philanthropic dollars; that there are very powerful network effects that come from the creation of strong communities of supporters/friends/advisors/Board members; and this itself can be a “sustainable revenue model.”

Put more simply, to me a sustainable revenue model is one that gives the organization and its donors a high degree of confidence that 1,2, 5, and 10 years down the line, the nonprofit will continue to exist, will continue to focus on its current mission (or the next iteration of that mission), and will have the capital on hand that will allow it to engage in long-term strategic planning and execution.

There are a LOT of ways to get here, and we shouldn’t forget that most “sustainable revenue models” center around creating an energetic, passionate tribe of donors who want to give and who are fervent advocates for your organization (no matter if they make $10 or $10 million donations.)

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What do philanthropists care about?

Continuing a conversation from last week, I again have to acknowledge Seth Godin for understanding as well as anyone how REAL buying decisions (philanthropic, b2b software sales, you name it) are made.  You should read the full post, “The rational marketer (and the irrational customer).”  Here’s the punchline (Seth is talking about when you, the marketer, know your product is worth buying but your customer doesn’t):

You know that your car is more aerodynamic. You know that your insulation is more effective. You know that your insurance has a higher ROI.

…The problem is that your prospect doesn’t care about any of those things. He cares about his boss or the story you’re telling or the risk or the hassle of making a change. He cares about who you know and what other people will think when he tells them what he’s done after he buys from you.

The opportunity, then, is not to insist that your customers get more rational, but instead to embrace just how irrational they are. Give them what they need. Help them satisfy their needs at the same time they get the measurable, rational results your product can give them in the long run.

Let’s say that last bit again: “Help them satisfy their needs at the same time they get the measurable, rational results your product can give them in the long run.”

So if I occasionally get frustrated with the dialogue around creating more efficient philanthropic marketplaces, it’s because I don’t always see real, honest incorporation of how philanthropists’ really make decisions.    So, yes, we need to move the dialogue forward (in terms of making giving more efficient, helping the most effective nonprofits rise to the top, etc.), but doing this while overlooking / downplaying the donors’ reality is inevitably going to come up short.

This is why I loved Renata Rafferty’s description of “dinosaur philanthropy” on the Tactical Philanthropy blog.  We need to start where the bulk of the giving is – and the bulk of the givers are – if the conversations about measurement are going to have a signficant impact on the flow of philanthropic capital.

Are we dropping the bag in the lost and found?

Sean Stannard-Stockton, author of the wonderful Tactical Philanthropy blog, made a characteristically insightful comment on my “Create your own reality” post.   It is in a similar vein as Nathaniel Whittemore’s comment here, so I feel like I haven’t been nearly clear enough in some recent posts.  So here goes.

Sean writes:

Sasha, it seems to me that you had a ton of tools at your disposal to find the mysterious Australian. What if instead your best bet was to just drop the bag off at a lost and found. That wouldn’t have made you feel as good because it was not just the act of trying to help that made you feel good, it was your success in helping.

That desire for success is what is driving “increasing donor demands for objective data.” Philanthropy isn’t just about trying to help, it is about actually helping.

15 years ago, you didn’t have all the technology tools you mentioned in the post available to help track the person down. That’s where we are today in philanthropy. We want to help, but we often don’t know how to do it effectively.

The passion behind philanthropy is not at odds with the technical, data driven discussions. The passion is driving those discussions.

Yes, yes and yes.  I totally agree.  So what am I getting at?

1. Yes, the passion is behind the discussions about data and creating measurement tools for the sector.  This is totally, completely necessary, which is why I’m hugely enthusiastic about the work that Acumen Fund is doing with the PULSE tool as well as other similar efforts in the sector.

2. My question is more about how people really make decisions when they allocate philanthropic dollars.  I’m skeptical not because of anything I think about philanthropy or the nonprofit sector (though measuring the changes we are trying to make is harder than in most sectors, I would argue).  I’m skeptical because I see other sectors that have much much better data, and I don’t see that data playing nearly as big a role as one would hope in driving decisions and dollars.   My front-and-center example? The mutual fund industry, in which individual investors make very irrational decisions, in which data on fees is available but somehow doesn’t seem to impact much at all, and in which intermediaries (salespeople) have a very big incentive to meet their own sales goals and divert people from making optimal decisions.

So yes, absolutely, let’s get better data and let’s start using it.  Let’s develop a common vocabulary and let’s put it front and center on all of our materials, so that the most effective organizations (no matter how small or obscure) rise to the top and attract more philanthropic capital.

But let’s also be realistic about the fact that there are many other incentives and actors, that brands matter, that personalities matter, that fundraisers will sell their own stories and that these stories may be much more powerful than the data.

My goal is to insert this into the conversation early, so that we don’t get surprised.  Our sector has a lot of catching up to do, but the data will only get us so far in terms of creating an “efficient philanthropic marketplace.”

Create your own reality

A few weeks ago my wife and I took a cab at night in New York city.  As we were leaving we noticed a black bag on the floor in the back seat.  It contained a Lonely Planet Guide to the USA, two pairs of ticket stubs (a Knicks game at Madison Square Garden and the Museum of Natural History), a digital camera, a business card of a trainer at New York Sports Club, and a copy of an Australian passport with some phone numbers in Kenya handwritten on the back.

We had a mystery on our hands.

We made a few phone calls to places that were underlined in the Lonely Planet guide.  The Harlem Flophouse was absolutely no help – the person who answered the phone didn’t speak English very well and had never heard of the guest.  We left a message at NY SportsClub.  Then we looked at the photos on the digital camera, hoping that somehow this person had photographed the outside of their hotel in NYC (sure!).  No luck on that count, but clearly our forgetful traveler had been all over the world on a long trip, including a stint in what looked like sub-Saharan Africa. What a shame to lose the record of that experience.

Next step: the Internet.  Facebook, Australian Whitepages, etc.  Luckily the traveler’s name was uncommon.  We sent a few emails, even tried calling an opthamologist’s office in Australia on Skype – but it was closed for a holiday and you couldn’t even leave a message.

A week passed, and then another.  Nothing. The trail had run cold.

Then, an email last night.  Our world-traveling Australian was back home.  He was thrilled, and so were we.  Better yet, his good friends are leaving tonight back to Australia.  We met this morning, and I gave them the bag.  They were thankful, and I was glowing.  Who could believe this story would have such a happy ending?

Why did this make me so happy?

For just a few minutes this morning, I got to live in a world that was just how I’d want it to be.  In that world, when you lose something, you get it back.  Complete strangers treat each other kindly and with respect.  Generosity is the norm.

And then I got to thinking about philanthropy and the warm feeling I had.  And it helped remind me that philanthropy is an act of giving, and not an asset allocation.

This may seem obvious, but all the talk about creating more efficient philanthropic marketplaces and increasing donor demands for objective data seems to miss this point:  that part of the reason people give is so that the world, for them, can be how they want it to be – at least for a little while.

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Should foundation program officers be more like venture capitalists? (Part 2 of 2)

(This post first appeared on the Tactical Philanthropy blog, as part of a conversation Sean Stannard-Stockton kicked off on creating a ‘capital market’ for philanthropy.  It is the continuation of my earlier post on whether foundation program officers should be more like venture capitalists.)

One of the big problems we need to solve as a sector is how to find ways to scale highly effective nonprofit organizations.  Kudos to Sean for raising this question and also for highlighting the power dynamic that can often exist between funders and grant recipients.  (I particularly like George’s reference to the need to be a “chameleon”, which captures the issue very nicely).

At Acumen Fund, about two years ago we realized that we were in a position for a major scale-up of our work, and we also recognized that the best way to do it would be to raise a large pool of unrestricted philanthropic capital that would take us to the next level.  We set out to raise $100M over two years in unrestricted capital in May of 2007, and by the end of 2008 we raised $85 million against this goal.

One of my reflections having led up this effort is that individual philanthropists are typically much more prepared than institutions (foundations and corporations) to make large, long term, multi-year, unrestricted gifts.  (That said, there are some institutions that are exceptions to this rule, and I do believe that when programmatic goals of a nonprofit align closely with those of a foundation, large gifts with some restrictions can provided needed growth capital that allows for the kind of organizational investment that growing nonprofits need to make.)

Where things get really tricky is when a nonprofit that might be ready for tens of millions of dollars of growth capital (the $10-$30M that George Overholser suggests is a good reference point) finds itself mostly able to raise programmatic grants (often narrowly restricted) in $50,000-$100,000 increments from foundations.  Programmatic grants like this can create the two-headed hydra of not having sufficient funding for “overhead” (a.k.a. non-program staff), combined with the communications, relationship and reporting challenge that can come with having 100 individual $50,000-$100,000 grants (an absurd number, but this would get you to $5-$10 million) – the “chameleon” problem.

The irony is that in other lines of work – venture capital; executive search; etc. – being able to find and invest in a world-class team of people is seen as THE differentiator between good and great firms.  Yet all too often, foundations seem unwilling to invest in people and organizations, instead seeing nonprofits as a means to a programmatic end.

The problem with a world in which the most proactive, risk-taking philanthropists are individuals (rather than foundations) is that it has the potential to limit severely the types of new nonprofits that will be successful at growing to scale – namely, the winners will be those organizations that are run by individuals who are capable of building strong and deep relationships with ultra high net-worth individuals. Nonprofit CEOs who can do this bring together a unique combination of skills, but if this is only real way for anyone looking to grow a new nonprofit, then we as a society have a problem. (though large scale retail fundraising using Web 2.0 tools is a potentially interesting solution).

The potential I see is to have foundations bring together both know-how about what it takes to solve major social problems AND a risk appetite to put capital behind organizations (and not just programs) that have a real chance at building those solutions.

For now, at least, it seems like we’re coming up short on the appetite for risk and for openness to the idea that investing in great teams and building great institutions will be what brings forth the next wave of groundbreaking nonprofits.

Why overhead ratios are meaningless for Kiva and Acumen Fund

Matt Flannery, the CEO of Kiva, wrote an excellent post on nonprofit overhead over on the Social Edge blog.  Kiva has been a game-changer in the poverty alleviation space: they use Kiva.org to connect donors to microfinance loan recipients in the developing world.  What’s important is the loan part — rather than getting a grant the borrower has to pay back the microfinance organization, which in turn pays back the funder.  Conceptually, this is similar to Acumen Fund, where I work – we raise philanthropic donations and then make debt and equity investments in enterprises that serve the poor in the developing world.  When we’re paid back, we recycle that capital into new investments.

One of the challenges that Acumen Fund and Kiva both face is that our models – focused on innovation, accountability, investment, and better leverage for each philanthropic dollar – are in direct opposition to the traditional metrics that rate nonprofit efficiency.  This is because invested capital (loans and equity), unlike grants, don’t factor into ratio of “overhead costs as a percentage of total cost.”  It just stays on the balance sheet but is not part of the annual budget.

The conventional nonprofit wisdom is that “best in class” nonprofits will spend no more than 20% on “overhead,” breaking down roughly to 10% on fundraising and 10% on administrative costs.

As Bridgespan, one of the leading consulting organizations to the non-profit sector, reports, “Many organizations and their funders are locked in a vicious cycle in which nonprofits are pressured to under-invest in overhead and to under-report their true overhead costs, even when those costs are still below what their senior managers feel is needed.”  Worse still, Bridgespan reports that “The majority of nonprofits [75-85% they studied] under-report overhead on tax forms and in fundraising materials.”

If we’re going to break the cycle, we have to uncover how flawed the underlying logic is.  Here’s where the logic falls apart:

An example: Both the Grameen Bank and BRAC in Bangladesh are world-class organizations that have changed the lives of tens of millions of poor people (mostly Bangladeshi women) through the provision of microfinance services.  Both organizations were founded by visionary leaders upon whose shoulders my generation stands in our work to bring an end to global poverty.

Yet, if forced to choose, I would argue that Grameen had the greater impact on the world because Mohammed Yunus, Grameen’s founder, won the Nobel Prize.  This was a major marker that “mainstreamed” microfinance and allowed the world, and not just the development community, to understand that lending money to poor people could change their lives in new and exciting ways. The result was a huge influx of commercial capital, and significantly more growth in the sector – ultimately leading to millions more served.

My question is: in the 30 years prior to Yunus receiving the Nobel Prize, does it sound right to you that every meeting Yunus had with a world leader, a powerful donor, or a leading journalist would have been counted in Grameen’s “overhead” cost, as separate from the “program” cost of delivering microfinance services to Bangladeshi women?  Should Grameen have “stuck to its knitting” in delivering microfinance services and not wasted money on all the “overhead” of external communications and building a community of friends, advocates, advisors, and supporters, which ultimately led to a global movement in support of microfinance?  (and yes, I know it wasn’t all Yunus, but without him, I don’t think we’d be where we are today).

My point is: it’s not just a little wrong to try to separate out “program” from “overhead,” it’s an outdated (or maybe it was never right) mode of thinking that is based on the premise that nonprofits are primarily delivery mechanisms for pre-determined services.  In reality, nonprofits play an active role in shaping our collective understanding of how to solve important social problems.

And getting back to Kiva and Acumen…: There’s a whole new segment of hybrid organization – encompassing the likes of  Kiva, Acumen Fund, Root Capital, E+Co, Agora Partnerships, sitawi, and others – that deploy mostly non-philanthropic capital for social ends.  Much as we’d like not to worry about the conversation, people do often ask about “overhead ratios” when making philanthropic decisions.

In closing, here are four (more or less related) thoughts:

  • Until “social investors” like Acumen et al. can develop a common vocabulary to  assess how efficient and effective we are (or are not), we will be at a disadvantage in the philanthropic marketplace
  • The nonprofit sector as a whole would be significantly stronger, and better positioned to weather economic downturns, if nonprofits didn’t rely on annual funding cycles.  But raising money over 18 months to pay for costs over 5 years requires an upfront investment – one that will look “inefficient” based on traditional ratios
  • If you care about fundraising efficiency, ask how much it costs an organization to raise a dollar, not how much they spend in total on raising money.
  • Even when asking this question, take the answer with a HUGE grain of salt – raising money, teaching, inspiring people, changing attitudes, motivating people to act….there’s huge overlap in these activities. If you don’t agree, please read my NonProfit CEO Manifesto and let me know how we can all do this better.

Alert the press!! Weingart Foundation breaks new ground

If I were writing for the NY Observer or some other similarly sensationalist newspaper, I’d write a headline that says:

“Nation Stunned: LA-based Weingart Foundation Places Trust in Nonprofit Grantees”

This is absolutely, positively not meant to be a dig on the Weingart Foundation.  To the contrary, they deserve praise.  As the LA Business Journal reports, the Weingart Foundation has announced that it will “offer unusual ‘core support’ to underwrite administrative costs for social service agencies that provide necessities such as food, shelter and health care to the region’s poor, unemployed and sick.”

This is contrary to normal practice, wherein “Most philanthropic foundations traditionally give large grants that pay the costs of specific programs but do not underwrite non-profits’ operating costs, such as staff salaries and rent. Many non-profits get their operating cash typically from their own fund raisers or from direct donations.”

My point is: the fact that this is newsworthy is a reflection of how far (too far) things have swung in terms of foundation grantmaking to nonprofits.  There’s a serious power imbalance here, one that has to change if we are going to increase the impact and efficiency of the nonprofit sector.

There’s a longer history here, one that I will be exploring over time on this blog, but as a starting point imagine the following in the for-profit sector:  Blackstone or some other private equity fund investing three million dollars in a portfolio company, but restricts the funding to the purchase of an Oracle database, with 10% for “overhead.”   Guess what?  That never happens, because it doesn’t make a lick of sense.

So why have we ended up at this perverse equilibrium in the nonprofit sector?  The list of reasons might include:

1. A desire for funding to go “to the beneficiaries”

2. Concern that nonprofits are not efficient enough, and that limiting grants in this way will lead to increased efficiencies

3. Because there’s a serious power imbalance between people who hold the money (the foundations) and the people who use the money (the nonprofits), so the people with the purse strings get to write the rules. (something I talk about more here)

4. Because the donors have their own philanthropic agenda, and fitting unrestricted funding into a specific agenda is difficult

5. The fear that on the part of the foundation program officer that one of their grantees will end up as front page news because of exorbitant salaries paid to their top executives or CEO

The result of all of this is that we end up with scores of nonprofits twisting themselves into knots to manage a series of too-small, too-specific “program” grants, with individual donors asked to pick up the difference between what’s funded and what’s needed to deliver on the non-profit’s mission (weren’t the foundation supposed to be the trailblazers in this equation?).

Worse, the nonprofits get tied into a cycle of yearly make-the-numbers funding, and they end up perpetuating the myth that you can neatly separate a non-profit into “program” and “everything-else-that-really-isn’t-that-worthwhile-but-we-have-to-do-some-of-it-even-though-we’d-rather-not.”

Lots more to talk about here, but here’s a starting point:  Do you think you’re going to get the best people to do a job that you (foundation program officer; non-profit grant-writer) have proclaimed is in the “not terribly worthwhile” bucket?

(Hat tip to Sean Stannard-Stockton at the Tactical Philanthropy blog for pointing out the LA Business Journal article.)


What a great time to raise money

I just returned from a week in Europe – talking to people about their philanthropy in the midst of the worst market free-fall in 70 years.  What’s going on is unprecedented, and being in London the day that the other shoe dropped –  RBS lost 39% and one of Iceland’s bank’s had to be nationalized – was surreal.

So how could the trip have been a success?  The thing is, philanthropy really is about relationships and about making long-term change in the world.  These problems have existed for decades, and the solutions will be decades in the making.  This is not about transactions, not about a single gift or a single project or investment.

So yes, people will take longer to decide to give, and most won’t be giving this year.  But now is the time to invest more, not less, in relationships for the long-term.

(Also, here’s a thought: what’s going to happen to the tens of thousands of people who were in finance and have lost their jobs or their bonuses?  Will we see an influx of highly-skilled people into the nonprofit sector?  And if so, what can we do to make the most of this opportunity?)