What Qualities Should Grantmakers Possess?
Given the temptations of philanthropy, and given the imperatives for right treatment of grantseekers, what are the necessary qualities for fitness as a grantmaker? This question has been considered many times over the years, most often in the pages of Foundation News and Commentary. Large numbers of lists have been compiled, each containing many traits in common and a few that are distinctive. Of these dozens of potentially valuable qualities, there seem to be six that are irreducible requirements.
Integrity
Some wag once remarked that “the most important thing in life is integrity. Once you have learned to fake that, you've got it made.” Facetiousness aside, as a program officer you must possess and model trustworthiness. All transactions between grantmakers and grantseekers ultimately depend on trust. Any program officer who cannot be trusted cannot ultimately be effective. Not only is it wrong to lie, but it is also bad policy. Grantseekers form a surprisingly small and well-connected society, and their grapevine functions well. Lies are soon discovered. The consequences of these lies hurt more than just the program officer; they affect the reputation of the foundation itself. And, because program officers are the foundation to grantseekers, a mendacious program officer is tantamount to a mendacious foundation.
People Skills
The story is told of a Civil War surgeon who was amputating, without benefit of anesthetic, limbs of wounded soldiers. A concerned observer asked, “Isn't that terribly painful?” The surgeon quickly replied, “Only if I carelessly cut my thumb.” More than a few grantmakers are the spiritual descendants of that surgeon: brilliant but insensitive. Philanthropy being an eminently human enterprise, it is absolutely essential that you be an empathic and respectful listener, articulate speaker, clear writer, and intuitive and sensitive observer. A program officer who cannot listen is quite simply useless; one who cannot communicate is quite simply dangerous. As a program officer, you must listen without unduly raising expectations, communicate interest without making unfounded implications or empty promises, and, above all, say no without crushing spirits or making enemies.
Many program officers were hired for their penetrating intellect, their impressive scholarship, or their valuable experience, all without regard to their ability to communicate or their respect for others. In a foundation context, brilliance without humanity is not just unfortunate: it crushes good ideas and makes lasting enemies. An anecdote related by a program officer underlines the importance of empathy: “I brought along a half-dozen proposals to a conference I was attending,” she said. “One evening I skipped the host event and read them all. None were competitive, so I dictated letters declining each request. As I finished the last one, I felt great because I had gotten so much accomplished that evening. Then it suddenly hit me. That pile of rejected proposals represented the hopes, the aspirations, and the dreams of hundreds of people who wanted to help thousands of other people. I had just crushed those dreams—and here I was feeling great about it. I suddenly felt ashamed of myself.” There should be no shame in turning down uncompetitive requests, but there should be no pride in inflicting pain—even unavoidable pain—on applicants. And always there is a danger of what might be called “creeping numbness”: a loss of sensitivity for the impact on others of the decisions made by the foundation. The responsibility of deciding who gets money and who does not is one that should never be taken lightly and one that requires a healthy respect for the dreams and feelings of others.
Analytical Ability and Creativity
A cynic, as defined by Oscar Wilde, is one “who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.” The post of program officer requires a healthy balance between “knowing the price” (having the ability to analyze ideas, test their internal logic, and rate their external value) and “knowing the value” (having the ability to grasp the possibilities of ideas, to envision how they might develop and change society). As mentioned before, you must possess a balance of “head” and “heart”—must at once be logical and passionate. Too much “head,” and you will analyze promising ideas to death. Too much “heart,” and you will fund ludicrous or embarrassing ideas. In short, the ideal program officer is a mixture of equal parts accountant and entrepreneur, with a dash of coach and a pinch of cleric added to the mix.
Spirituality
Genius, Thomas Edison once explained, “is 1 percent inspiration, and 99 percent perspiration.” In philanthropy, these proportions should not exactly be transposed, but inspiration should play a greater role in your work as a program officer than a mere 1 percent. People who wish to make money tend to be drawn to the commercial sector. People who wish to wield power tend to be drawn to the government sector. People who wish to make positive change in the world tend to be drawn to foundation work. Making money and wielding power are essentially rational ambitions, proceeding from the cognitive side of people's lives. The desire to transform society, however, issues from a different part of people's lives, one that is less logical and more affective. In fact, for many, foundation work becomes a secular expression of spirituality. It demonstrates love for fellow humans, provides an avenue to transform faith into action, and satisfies a craving to connect to others in a profound way. Rob Lehman (1998), president of the Fetzer Institute, has eloquently defined this phenomenon as “the heart of philanthropy”: bringing into balance and into a conscious relationship the inner life of the spirit and the outer life of action and service.
Ironically, foundations as organizations are usually uncomfortable with these impulses, often in the mistaken belief that spirituality equates with conventional religion. Indeed, sometimes it does, but more often it transcends any particular organized system of faith. “Spirit,” as Robert Greenleaf (1977) noted, “represents the divine behind the urge to serve.” Spirituality should be seen as a source of strength to the foundation and to philanthropy as a whole, for when the spirit is exorcized from foundation work, such work becomes indistinguishable from any other calling: making grants becomes pretty much the same as making widgets.
Sense of Balance and Proportion
Few things in life are more potentially dangerous than an overzealous person, particularly one with lots of money and an urge to do good works. New program officers are highly likely to experience the “kid in the candy store” problem, being unable to resist each new opportunity, making too many commitments, overextending their calendar, and ultimately sapping their physical and mental energy. It would be simpler, of course, if there were a dearth of good opportunities, which would make it easier to choose only the best. As it is, there are more opportunities to do good than any one person can possibly pursue. You must have the self-discipline to bring balance to your life. If you are to do things well, you will have to sacrifice many good opportunities (or at the very least, hand them over to others). The program officer who is overcommitted, overstressed, and overwhelmed does nothing well. In foundations, almost universally, program officers report that the responsibility for keeping that sane balance between work and family, between internal and external responsibilities, and among professional, volunteer, and personal commitments falls squarely on their own shoulders. The officers of the foundation do not take on such tasks, nor should they be expected to do so. Effective grantmakers pace themselves, working steadily and working hard, but also controlling the amount and the intensity of that work. And always, the hardest part is passing up exciting and promising chances to do good.
Compassion
Grantmaking is more than the making of grants. It is also the breaking of hearts. Declining proposals is a weekly, if not daily, part of the routine. Moreover, many of the proposals that must be declined represent good ideas from good people and are a good fit with the foundation's priorities—and yet must be declined because the grantmaking budget is not large enough to support everything. The last thing an applicant needs is for the program officer to heap insult on injury by being disrespectful or insensitive while delivering disappointing news. As a grantmaker you need to keep this in mind always and to practice compassion constantly. This is not to say that you can avoid hard decisions; rather it is to say that you should not be unnecessarily hard on applicants when you deliver and explain the foundation's decisions to decline requests. Without compassion and empathy, you become part of the problem that your foundation is trying to overcome.