Somewhere between too easy and too hard, we have the space of Goldilocks philanthropy, where just like Goldilocks’s choice of porridge, one can find a Zen-like space, having made an informed decision that feels “just right.”
After crises in the past, we have seen new kinds of institutions emerge. In all of these instances, philanthropy provided models, funding, or expertise that helped bring about these transformational innovations. What then, of our time?
We are returning to campus, working, learning, discovering—to some semblance of an earlier routine, and again sharing space with others. But it is not the spaces that we have missed; it is community.
If Americans could come together to write a collective manifesto, following MacKenzie Scott’s example, what would it say?
As robots and algorithms succeed in replicating some of the attachments we build in relationships, remember that we all retain the power to decide if and when we want transactions to develop into relationships.
Policy and philanthropy are intertwined in more ways besides regulating nonprofits and the tax incentives for giving money.
It seems that losing is not the profanity it has been made out to be, but rather is inherent in a social contract that allows us all to benefit from moments when we lose.