We’re in a major learning moment for the foundation sector.
At least I hope so…
Last month, the House of Representatives moved to strip healthcare (Medicaid) and access to food (SNAP) from millions of Americans. The so-called “big beautiful” tax bill would mark the largest transfer of wealth in our country’s history from the lowest-income to the wealthiest, all while leaving future generations with $2.5T in additional debt.
Astounding, in my opinion.
At the time of this announcement, I was celebrating an extraordinary moment in philanthropy’s history: Hundreds of foundations working in coordination, across ideological lines, to challenge aggressive White House initiatives attacking diversity, equity, and inclusion, criminalizing climate action, and challenging nearly every tenet of the rule of law, from due process to habeas corpus.
Many of us moved quickly to fund litigation efforts to place injunctions on unconstitutional administration policy. We proved that philanthropy can act with urgency.
Yet now, as Congress threatens to gut basic survival programs, the sector’s silence is deafening.
The Hypocrisy of Selective Speed
I have to be honest about what I’m seeing: foundations can move fast—when it’s about us.
You see, about a month ago, the House floated the idea they could reduce the debt by taxing earnings on foundation investments—a modest $15B over a decade, against $5-6T projected in charitable assets piling up in foundation coffers during that same period.
Suddenly, “slow-moving” philanthropy found our agility. I watched while some of my peers, having the opportunity to directly lobby in defense of our institutions, scrambled at speeds not seen before.
But where was this urgency five years ago, in the early days of COVID? Or when Medicaid and SNAP were put on the chopping block? Recently, our sector has issued statement upon statement about the crisis before us since January 20th. Some have sought to fill some gaps. Others have touted a 1-2% payout bump.
But in the end, that’s not much, relative to the nearly $2T in assets sitting in our endowments.
Sadly, Americans aren’t even looking to our sector to bail them out—why would they? We’ve shown them our priorities. In fact, with this exception, I don’t recall one foundation publicly expressing concern for the millions of people being threatened by Congress. If we don’t do better, we shouldn’t be surprised when we see more efforts to tax earnings on foundation investments.
The irony is that the foundations that would see their earnings hit hardest by this tax can more than handle it. In fact, several foundation CEOs have told me their finance people don’t expect much of a hit at all.
Sure, maybe some foundations with the biggest brands might scale back their marketing and communications budgets, or perhaps they may need to use their endowment for something other than index funds. They might even have to dip beyond an additional 1-2%—oh my!
But at the end of the day, prioritizing the needs of philanthropy in a moment when millions of Americans face life-threatening cuts to their healthcare and food is simply not becoming of our sector.
Foundation friends, this is our time to speak loudly for the leaders working on the frontlines.
Perhaps we deprioritize our $15B over the next decade and use our assets now.
We Have Choices
This bill isn’t law yet. It still has a ways to go, so the questions I’m sitting with are:
Where can we divert resources, relationships, and networks to fuel the work happening to protect SNAP right now?
How can we funnel the same urgency our sector unleashed against the taxes on foundations toward the fight to protect Medicaid?
How can we amplify the stories and voices of the people who will be hardest hit by this bill?
Food banks, labor unions, healthcare workers, educators, and grassroots organizations are taking action across the country to protect people from these cuts. Their vital work provides our sector with an opportunity to leverage every connection, dollar, and ounce of influence we can to support their efforts.
We could continue down the path of narrow self-interest and watch as millions are pushed deeper into insecurity, or we can prove that philanthropy stands shoulder to shoulder with people.
I know that for some in our sector, this message may be uncomfortable. Perhaps even nonsensical, given how deeply we’ve bought into our own narrative.
But discomfort is where learning and growth begin.
With peace and love, G
Heck yes, Glen ... thanks for the uncomfortable truth offered with clarity and no b.s. We are, after all, in it TOGETHER.
Yes! Thanks for speaking up about this.