Philanthropy’s Loss: Remembering James Patrick Shannon

By Pablo Eisenberg

Philanthropy lost a towering figure when James Pat-rick Shannon died in August at age 82.

After a distinguished career as a priest in the Catholic Church, which named him auxiliary bishop of St. Paul at age 44, he left the priesthood and became a grant maker, first as the executive director of the Minneapolis Foundation and later as executive director of the General Mills Foundation and vice president of the corporation. Minneapolis and St. Paul have been enriched because of his record of philanthropic achievement, but the impact of his work was felt nationwide.

As an educator, journalist, academic, philosopher, outstanding speaker, spiritual counselor, mentor to aspiring public servants, supporter of social- and economic-justice efforts, and superb grant maker, Jim Shannon was one of the last of our dwindling number of renaissance people who combine a visionary view of the world with a pragmatic sense of the possible. He was both an idealist and a down-to-earth negotiator.

His work as a priest served as the crucible from which he developed his work as a grant maker. After being ordained in 1946, he received a doctorate in American studies from Yale University in 1955. At age 35, he was appointed president of the University of Saint Thomas, in St. Paul, becoming one of the youngest leaders of a higher-education institution.

His tenure as bishop was marked by frequent criticism from his conservative colleagues in the church. He was attacked for being one of the first bishops to oppose publicly U.S. policy in Vietnam. His strong support for the civil-rights movement raised some anxieties and concerns. And his belief that such contentious issues as birth control, the ordination of women, and marriage for clergymen should be openly discussed within the church infuriated many of his peers, so much so that he was reprimanded by an official body of the church.

Under those circumstances, Jim Shannon felt he had no option but to resign from his position. While he married and became a lawyer, he remained a practicing Catholic. Despite his profound differences with some papal teachings and his shabby treatment by many bishops, he was never angry with either the church or his critics; he understood, tolerated, and even respected their position.

The conscience, compassion, and humility that he demonstrated throughout his ecclesiastical life characterized his philanthropic career. When he came to the Minneapolis Foundation, the institution had relatively little money and low standing within the Twin Cities. Under his leadership, the community foundation expanded its assets and, more significantly, gained stature as an important player in community affairs. His integrity, concern for needy citizens, and courage in tackling the toughest issues were widely admired, even by those who disagreed with him.

Jim Shannon built an institutional culture that has been carried on by his successors. Emmett Carson, the foundation’s chief executive officer, says that the Minneapolis Foundation “continues to look to Jim’s legacy in speaking out on difficult issues of social and economic justice in our community.”

Mr. Shannon’s vision transcended the interests of his own foundation. He became a major force in trying to raise the standards of other foundations in the state through the creation of a state association of grant makers. He was named that organization’s first chair. His views, priorities, and moral authority continued to influence grant makers in Minnesota and elsewhere until his death.

He left the foundation to write a book and do a little consulting. But after several years, he was persuaded to refocus his attention on philanthropy, this time on corporate-giving practices. His tenure at General Mills from 1980 to 1988 marked a high spot in corporate philanthropy, a time when corporations like Aetna, Arco, General Mills, Dayton Hudson (now Target), Levi Strauss, and Prudential balanced their self-interest with the real needs of the regions where they operated and the nonprofit organizations that served local residents. It was a day when their corporate giving was truly philanthropy and not just bottom-line business expenditures, as is so often the case today.

While Jim’s loyalties to the company were strong, his commitment to community progress, especially to constituencies and groups at the margin, was equally stalwart. He supported policy and advocacy groups that others shunned. He was the first to give money to the Philanthropy Project, an effort to monitor and evaluate the performance of foundations in Minnesota. He took risks unusual for a corporate donor, but, then, he was Jim Shannon, and General Mills profited from his leadership.

After leaving General Mills, he remained involved in community life, serving on boards, speaking out on key issues, being the wise adviser behind the scenes. He even became the president of the Minneapolis Club, an elite membership organization of socially and economically powerful people in the Twin Cities. When I asked him whether serving in this capacity didn’t go against his notions of social equity, he said, “There is goodness and compassion among rich and powerful people just as there is among those who are not so privileged. I can serve as a bridge between the two.” And, indeed, he did.

Jim Shannon was a good, great man. He left an indelible mark on both the spiritual and temporal worlds. Those of us who knew him have lost a great friend and mentor. The many people who did not know him but were nevertheless touched by his work have lost a superb teacher and catalyst for progress.

Unfortunately, Jim Shannon is irreplaceable. As one friend of his said some time ago, “They just don’t make them like that any more.”

Pablo Eisenberg is senior fellow at the Georgetown University Public Policy Institute and a member of the executive committee of the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy. He is a regular contributor to these pages. His e-mail address is pseisenberg

@erols.com.