Should Leona Helmsley’s Wish Come True?

With the recent announcement of the first of $136-million in grants from the Leona M. and Harry B. Helmsley Charitable Trust, it is easy to imagine Leona Helmsley rolling over in her well-manicured mausoleum. (The same will that established the trust that bears her name also directed that her final resting place must be “acid washed or steam cleaned at least once a year.”)

Grants from the Helmsley trust were made to an impeccably vetted group of worthy charities working on a variety of causes, including health, human services, education, and conservation, with an especially heavy emphasis on medical research and treatment. But only $1-million in grants was made to support charities related to the care of dogs — even though that is the key cause Ms. Helmsley said she wanted as the foundation’s mission.

One hesitates to referee a battle between the ghost of Leona Helmsley and the people she put in charge of her estate. It is perhaps ironic to be debating the philanthropic intentions of a woman who was so notorious for her misanthropic behavior that she was derided as the Queen of Mean. For those of us who don’t have a dog in this fight, the easiest thing might be to simply stand by and watch, bemused at how easily her wishes were dismissed.

But the implications of the Helmsley trust’s disregard for donor intent has to be recognized as a threat to the entire field of philanthropy.

The danger in discarding a donor’s guidance so quickly is that it might have a chilling effect on donors who are contemplating the creation of a foundation in perpetuity. The vigorous effort to void the meaning of Mrs. Helmsley’s mission statement about her concern for the well-being of dogs may reinforce a fear among wealthy donors that their wishes will be ignored once they are gone.

The Helmsley trustees took great pains to demonstrate that they were free to act as they did. They petitioned the New York Surrogate’s Court to seek clear authorization to operate with complete independence, unfettered by any specific guidance about which causes they might support. Unsurprisingly, the court ruled that the trustees were free to operate with sole discretion over where the trust’s funds could be distributed.

Equally, the case has been heard in the court of public opinion, where Mrs. Helmsley’s intention to leave her vast fortune to canine concerns was largely ridiculed, except by people in the animal-welfare field, of course.

If Mrs. Helmsley truly wanted her philanthropy to focus on dogs, then it seems that she stepped in it, rhetorically speaking. What headline writer could refuse the cheap and obvious summary that her fortune was “Going to the Dogs!”

The underlying theme seemed to suggest that care for dogs was not a serious philanthropic purpose, and that the needs of animal-welfare organizations could not possibly absorb the amount of money that would be generated by a philanthropic trust worth at least $5-billion.

But animal welfare is a serious concern, and the needs of organizations that care for pets are large and largely underfinanced. According to the most recent edition of The Chronicle’s Philanthropy 400 ranking, the two largest animal-welfare groups alone — the Humane Society of the United States and the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals — had combined expenses of about $180-million. And that does not include the thousands of shelters and animal-rights advocacy organizations operating across the country and, indeed, around the world.

Moreover, taking a broader view of the definition of the care of dogs could encompass a broader concern. At a time when there are increasing threats to the continued existence of wolves and other canines, a new fund devoted to their continued well-being could make a big difference to wildlife conservation, which dwarfs the field of animal welfare and could easily absorb an infusion of new philanthropic resources. It is not unreasonable to focus on threats to biodiversity by focusing on the continued well-being of particular species.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with the charitable purposes identified by the Helmsley trustees. To be sure, a robust new source of support for the charities they favored is greatly appreciated, particularly at a time of declining resources. Certainly none of the causes they selected can be dismissed as frivolous. There is really no debate over which purpose is more legitimate.

But if donors become so concerned about foundations’ ignoring their wishes, they are more likely to avoid creating funds that operate in perpetuity.

Perpetual foundations stand in stark contrast to the prevailing ethos of our time. Foundations have the freedom to take a long view in an era when the pursuit of short-term returns in business and politics has nearly destroyed our economy and has greatly endangered the nation’s civic health. Foundations retain assets for tomorrow’s problems when other institutions have mortgaged the future for illusory and selfish gains today.

It would be unfortunate if future donors felt that they simply could not trust that their wishes would be honored in carrying out in their philanthropy. The message from the Helmsley case is that no matter how clear you make your feelings, you had better get them notarized and codified in your will or other trust documents.

In her heyday, Leona Helmsley was pictured in flamboyant ads for the Helmsley Palace Hotel, in New York, proclaiming, “It’s the only palace in the world where the queen stands guard.” But now that she’s gone, who stands guard over the queen’s philanthropic mission?

Vince Stehle is a program director at the Surdna Foundation, in New York, overseeing its grants to strengthen the nonprofit world. He is a regular columnist for The Chronicle of Philanthropy.