Little red push-pins

I used to work for a nonprofit outfit that the grant-writers referred to as a "capacity-building institution." We didn't do much ourselves, in other words, we mainly tried to get others to do things. Or, again in the parlance of our grant-writers, we sought to "inform, inspire and equip" others to act. Specifically, we wanted them to act to help the poor and the powerless.

Mainly, we put out a magazine, for which I was a writer and editor. Our intended audience was "evangelicals" -- an infamously difficult to define demographic.

Broadly speaking, evangelicals take very seriously the admonition in James 1:27 "... to keep onself from being polluted by the world." They take this so seriously, in fact, that they're wary of heeding the first part of that verse -- "to look after orphans and widows in their distress." Looking after such people involves interacting with the world, after all, and thus risking "being polluted." Or, as my late coworker and friend Dwight Ozard used to put it, evangelicals tend to be so intent on keeping their hands clean that they're afraid to get their fingernails dirty.

We offered plenty of arguments for why evangelical Christians ought to consider helping the poor a high priority. The problem with that approach, though, was that arguments seem to invite counter-arguments. A narrative, on the other hand -- a story -- can get around such reflexive defensiveness. So we told a lot of stories.

The stories we told were of people, mostly evangelical Christians themselves, who weren't afraid to get their fingernails dirty. Their stories were challenging and inspiring to me, so I suspected and hoped that they would be challenging and inspiring to others as well. These were very cool people doing very cool things and they were making a difference, one person, one block, one neighborhood, one classroom, one village at a time.

I kept a map of the United States on the bulletin board by my desk and every time we ran one of these stories I would stick a little red pushpin into the map, representing each person or congregation or nonprofit ministry whose story we had told. There was a pushpin in Waco, Texas, for the Church Under the Bridge, and one in Athens, Ohio, for Good Works Inc., and one in Pasadena, Calif., for Urban Onramps. There was a pushpin in Harrisburg, Pa., and one in White Plains, N.Y. And there were little clusters of pushpins in Chicago, Philadelphia, Washington, Los Angeles, New York City.

When I ran out of little red pushpins, I switched to dots from a red Sharpie. What started as, in part, a way of tracking the geographic diversity of the stories we told soon became, for me, a source of hope. Feeling discouraged? Look at the map. Look at all that's being done. Loaves and fishes, etc.

My boss had been collecting stories like this since before I was born and he was even more enthusiastic than I was about the impact of all this good work being done. He saw how much these good people were able to accomplish with little more than devotion and dedication and he imagined how much more they might do if they had access to more substantial resources, if they had more to work with than a shoestring budget. And so my boss became an enthusiastic proponent of what was then called "charitable choice."

The idea, briefly, was to allow these ministries and church groups to apply for government money. Those additional funds, he was certain, would allow these groups to produce additional results, to change more lives, to make more of a difference.

I didn't share his enthusiasm. I had First Amendment concerns -- concerns that, for me, were not only constitutional, but also theological. I distrusted the motives of some of the other proponents of this idea. I doubted that their market-based analogies of entrepreneurial supply and demand really translated into this pervasively altruistic "marketplace." And I had a dozen or so other worries and questions that I had a hard time getting my boss to address or consider.

But in addition to and underlying all of that, there was this: there weren't enough little red pushpins in the map. There were more than a hundred, and there were probably hundreds more I could have added. But not thousands.

I could see some merit in charitable choice, with careful First Amendment safeguards, if it were being put forward as a modest step, an incremental measure that might leverage some few steps forward for community development, education, neighborhood health care, etc. This was in the mid-'90s, after all, and such incremental, Clintonian measures were in vogue.

But the proponents were advocating this idea with a revolutionary zeal. I would look at one of those little red pushpins and think about the people and the work it represented. That group might be helping 20 people a year to find shelter, or jobs, or an education. And maybe with a bit more funding, they might be able to help 25 or even 30 people instead. But what would happen if we asked them to help 50 or 100 people? What if -- because this seemed to be where the proponents of this idea were headed -- what if instead of just asking these groups to do more to supplement the work of larger, more bureaucratic programs, we asked them to replace those programs? Could they do so while maintaining the distinctive character that made them so effective on a smaller scale? Could they even survive?

So when given the chance to get in on the ground floor as an early advocate of charitable choice, I respectfully declined. I took a pass. Too many unanswered questions.

That didn't endear me to my boss, of course, but I don't regret it. What I regret was taking a pass instead of pressing the point, because in the years since then many of those questions have been answered, and the answers weren't good.

Comments

[Victor]

I like your post Fred cause it seems to come from the heart. We do what we can and then I believe that it will still appear that it's not enough and/or even all wrong but we must remember that we are only flesh, bone and blood.

[Richard Hershberger]

What I don't get is why any religious organization would want to tie itself to the government. You take the money, hire staff, sign a lease on expanded space, buy equipment and supplies: place yourself at the mercy of whoever happens to be in office. We see this all the time, where the federal government forces the states to enact laws by threatening to withdraw highway funds or school funds or whatever. What many people don't understand in church/state discussions is that the two are seperated to protect the church at least as much as the state. Even if the church agrees with the current guy in power, it might not with the next guy. So why would any church be eager to sell itself out?

[Steve]

Wow Fred, you have some impeccable timing.

Methinks I worked for that push pin in Harrisburg, PA. Now I'm Executive Director of a small faith-based non-profit in Harrisburg that helps homeless single moms get back on their feet.

And just two weeks ago we were awarded our first ever Federal grant, a capacity-building grant from the faith-based initiatives. And just last night I was discussing this very question of motives behind the money with a friend. Hmmm...I hesitate to say more hear, but I'm gonna put the money to good use.

[Steve]

Richard, the Christian ministries I've worked for have received some limited government funding, but always chose for it to be limited...to not become so dependent on it that we'd ever compromise our principles to keep it.

Also, often funding streams are very specific. Its not like you take a general pot of money, and then the president or someone representing him tells you what to do with it. Rather, it is "I operate a housing program specifically designed for low-income elderly that are veterans", for example, and there is a pot just for that so perhaps you might apply for it.

I know this issue is frought with peril, but I've seen some Christian ministries do it quite well (even when it has been a large percentage of their budget).

An aside: I've also seen numerous Christian ministries with a chip on their shoulder about NOT accepting government money...like they are so noble and, well, like Fred said, clean. However, accepting government also means you may have to produce measurable results, be audited, etc. And often it's this good sort of accountability that these ministries miss out on. They raise lots of money because of their warm, fuzzy testimonies, but are they really effective?

[Steve]

One last thought: the temptation to compromise your principles to receive funding isn't unique to government money, it can happen with money from businesses, individuals, church groups, foundations, etc. (I even hear its possible for politicians to be corrupted by money from lobbyists). Sometimes those groups have priorities they want to foist on you, so you always have to weigh what is in the best interest of your mission.

[cminus]

In the wake of Hurricane Katrina, private charities raised $3.3 billion in aid for the victims, a sum I was proud to have added to. It was the largest collection of charitable donations in world history. A lot of people were helped.

However, to give an idea of the extent to which private charity can replace governmental aid, the best estimates suggest that the Gulf Coast will need over two hundred billion dollars in aid to recover.

(Decent Washington Post article on this subject, even if it doesn't have the courage to make the obvious connection, but instead spends its time harping on how local charities have had to use their limited funds on work that FEMA should have done, but lacked the competence to do so. It's quite safe today to bash government, even Bush's government, as incompetent; quite another thing to suggest we'd better be able to fix it, because without it we're screwed.)

[rudy]

Fred, I appreciate both the content and the tone of this post. Please continue.

[Cyndi]

I think a recent quote from Kuo's book, "Tempting Faith" is worth bearing in mind:

"More pointedly, Kuo quotes an unnamed member of the review panel charged with rating grant applications as saying she stopped looking at applications from 'those non-Christian groups,' as did many of her colleagues." MSNBC -- Tempting Faith

[Mike Timonin]

What if -- because this seemed to be where the proponents of this idea were headed -- what if instead of just asking these groups to do more to supplement the work of larger, more bureaucratic programs, we asked them to replace those programs?
This highlights very well the problem that I see with the whole Faith Based Initiative idea - it's a move back to the system (or utter lack thereof) that we had in place prior to the 1930's. It works very well in a limited sense, but not so well when the problems it is intended to deal with are overwhelming.

So, for a time, perhaps, we will see the government vindicated for removing itself from the charity game by passing the buck (and the bucks) to smaller, more local organisations. But then the economy will tank, or there will be a huge disaster, or some combination of those and other factors, and the system will collapse under the weight of people who need help.

$3.3 billion is very good for small charities. $200 billion is the sort of money that only a government can put out.

[Bugmaster]

because in the years since then many of those questions have been answered, and the answers weren't good.

So, what were these answers, exactly ? How many red pushpins remained in the map ? Just curious.

[LL]

A lot of people seem to have the idea that "faith-based" charity could/should replace govt in mitigation of poverty, for instance. It's like they think America prior to FDR's Great Society was some sort of poverty-free wonderland full of happy, smiling orphans and widows. And that was when we had only about 100 million people to worry about, we have 3 times that many now. I certainly agree that lots of our money is wasted by the govt, either in pure graft or inefficiencies or both, but I'm not convinced private entities could do much better. What I've seen of the governance of a lot of large private entities doesn't fill me with confidence in either their honesty or their competence. And religious people always seem to be so convinced of the unshakability of their faith that they would never have to worry about the govt forcing them to compromise their beliefs in exchange for funding, which just shows how very little they know about the govt. Govt money always has strings attached. Always. Why they think they'll be the exception to that rule, I can't figure out. If for no other reason, the people who bestow the govt money (politicians) want to be sure they are remembered at election time. That's essentially a bribe. Which, last time I looked, was frowned upon.

Also, many people are barely making it on their own, with just their own families to worry about, and they have very little left over (time or money) to give to others (the parable about the old lady and the rich man notwithstanding; point taken, but c'mon...). The govt can be "charitable" with our tax dollars because it hasn't given us a choice. I think that if the govt were to say to us, "We don't need your money, take all the money you send to us each year in taxes and give it to the charity of your choice," we'd see a big bump in plastic surgery, big cars, private school enrollment and the like, and not an appreciable bump in contributions to United Way, Red Cross, et al. Of course, some would say people have the right to spend their money as they see fit (and I agree to a point), I'm just sayin'... I don't think the American people are as charitable as some hope and assume from their theory that Americans would give appreciably more to charity if they were somehow "freed" from the burden of taxpaying.
I could be wrong, but I don't think I am.

[Duane]

I don't think the American people are as charitable as some hope and assume from their theory that Americans would give appreciably more to charity if they were somehow "freed" from the burden of taxpaying.

That's why the Gov't incentivizes charitable contributions by making them tax-deductible. That's also why many organizations attach a great deal of pomp and circumstance to charitable events and benefits. These organizations are making a direct appeal to folks' vanity and need to be recognized.

[cminus]

That's why the Gov't incentivizes charitable contributions by making them tax-deductible.

Tax-deductible if you itemize. If, like 70 percent of taxpayers, you don't itemize, no deduction.

(In 2000, Bush campaigned on ending this distinction, promising to amend the tax code to allow filers who don't itemize to nevertheless deduct charitable donations from their taxes. It was a good idea, actually. Therefore, it should surprise nobody that this promise holds the distinction of being the *very* *first* campaign promise Bush officially reneged on. Turns out that people who don't itemize aren't the sort of people Bush was interested in cutting taxes for...)

[magistra]

There is an important problem here that is far wider than questions about state versus charity. It's the fact that you can't easily scale up a lot of services and keep the quality. In most manufacturing, if you can manufacture 200,000 widgets/cars/ice-creams well, you can also manufacture 400,000 well. With schools, hospitals etc, there is a qualitiative difference between a school with 500 pupils and one with 1000. Similarly, if you want a good hospital, which does 100 heart operations a week very well, how does it get to do 200/week? You can't normally double the numbers of operations particular surgeons do; instead you have to hire in new surgeons, who may not be as good (because they'll normally come from the 'failing' hospital down the road). There are some service processes which you can standardise, but many services have this kind of artisanal quality to them - they depend crucially on the skills of those providing the services. You can only expand successfully if there is a reservoir of good people available or if you have the organisational structures and spare resources available to train people to be good at their job.

[Lauren]

That's why the Gov't incentivizes charitable contributions by making them tax-deductible. That's also why many organizations attach a great deal of pomp and circumstance to charitable events and benefits. These organizations are making a direct appeal to folks' vanity and need to be recognized.

The pomp and circumstance is more about credit than charity: For-profit business and individuals want to be recognized for going "above-and-beyond", many for selfish reasons. Yoplait wouldn't print a message about how they support breat cancer research on their packaging if somebody over there didn't think it would help sell more yogurt, and improve employee moral.

If charitable contributions become routine, then making a charitable contribution will be less special, and businesses who do so will get less credit in the marketplace.