November 4, 1999 | Read Time: 5 minutes
Ask any grant seeker to share his or her complaints about grant makers, and near the top of the list you’re sure to discover the absence of frank communication: Philanthropists seem about as open to disclosure as the old Soviet Politburo.
Sure, most foundations are happy to provide program descriptions, grant guidelines, geographic priorities, deadlines, and other such materials. But personal information that might give a grant seeker a little insight into exactly whom they’re dealing with and some sense of whether the program officers will be enthusiastic about a proposed project? Not a chance.
Most grant makers would like to believe that their institutions are pure meritocracies and that such personal information is irrelevant. But let’s face it: Foundation decisions ultimately are made by people who view proposals through the lenses of their own experiences, values, and prejudices. The gatekeepers include secretaries who eyeball letters and proposals, program officers who review them and make recommendations for grant making, and board members who are then asked to approve the recommendations.
Because of the influence that such people have, experienced fund raisers study carefully whatever biographical information is available on grant makers to whom they are pitching proposals. They recognize that program officers often choose to meet with grant seekers who hang out in the same circles, speak the same lingo, write for and read the same journals and newsletters, went to the same schools. And without such a meeting, 99 per cent of applicants don’t have a chance of winning a grant.
Nearly all foundations ask grant applicants to share their resumes. The non-profit world would benefit if this exchange of personal information became a two-way street.
With that in mind, I attempted over the past year to put together a directory of biographical information of program officers, focusing on those I considered to be “visionary” or “progressive.” Despite the uncontroversial nature of the project — I was just asking for the kinds of rudimentary data that appear in Who’s Who — I met with resistance at every turn.
My co-author and I contacted nearly a thousand program officers at 300 foundations by phone, letter, or e-mail, and many officers were contacted more than once. Yet nine out of 10 would not submit their resumes for publication. In some cases, the refusal was simply because the program officers’ secretaries had been told to say No to any survey takers, or our requests were lost in unmanageable “to do” piles. And in other cases, it was clear that people felt uncomfortable participating in the first edition of a directory like ours because they couldn’t imagine what we were asking for and why.
But the story doesn’t end there. At a major national foundation, several program officers agreed to participate — and then were forced to renege. A directive apparently came from the president ordering them not to participate in anything that suggested that the foundation supported “progressive” work. It didn’t matter that the book was about program officers — not foundations — who deemed their work to be progressive.
At another foundation, the director sent this gem of stonewalling: “We made a decision here in the office that we will not participate in the process of developing this directory. We have questions about the criteria for selection, the intended use, and the usefulness of such a directory.” I e-mailed back, offering to talk through his concerns. He never responded.
Even a friend who runs a medium-sized foundation initially wouldn’t share his resume because he wanted to protect his privacy and thought his decisions should be as impersonal as possible. Of course, that meant that his friends hold a distinct advantage over others in being able to gain access to him.
When I first set out to assemble the directory, I thought foundation program officers would leap at the opportunity to help remedy the information gap between grant makers and grantees. Though I expected resistance from foundations in general, I thought program officers who saw themselves as progressive would be willing, if not eager, to participate. After all, the fundamental tenets of a progressive philosophy include making social institutions accountable and empowering grassroots organizers.
What’s really going on here? Why are foundations so resistant to helping applicants and grantees find out more about the faces behind the institutions that control the purse strings?
One explanation is that program officers seem to appreciate their right to oversee the disbursement of tax-free funds but not their responsibility to provide thorough information to their grantees or to the public in general. Like potentates of earlier historical epochs, they believe their beneficent intentions raise them above the checks and balances of accountability that constrain other, more pedestrian institutions.
Withholding information, however, wastes everyone’s time. Just as the biographies required in proposals let program officers know whether the grantee is a good fit, grantees would like to know — before they invest thousands of dollars in writing proposals, making calls, traveling cross-country, and so forth — whether the program officers are likely to be receptive. Rather than pretend that either grantor or grantee is free of bias, it would be better if everyone opened up a little more about their views so that more like minds can meet and more unlike minds don’t exhaust precious resources.
Secrecy, no matter how well-intentioned, also heightens the public’s suspicion about philanthropy. And eventually, such distrust will translate into clumsy Congressional efforts to make the non-profit world more accountable. The best way to prevent more governmental restraints on our work is to make sure the public knows we have nothing to hide.
The 101 program officers who were willing to go public with their resumes are to be commended. They understand the importance and value of sharing information, holding themselves accountable, and making it easier for potential grantees to find common ground with them.
Other program officers, I hope, will consider this: The non-profit world is a public trust — one that places strong ethical responsibilities on grant seeker and grant maker alike to be especially open about who we are and what we are doing.
Michael H. Shuman is president of ProgressivePubs.Com and, along with Mac MacLean, is the author of 101 Visionary Program Officers.
