Philanthropists in Higher Education: Institutional, Biographical, and Religious Motivations for Giving (Routledgefalmer Dissertation Series in Higher Education)

STUDIES IN HIGHER EDUCATION DISSERTATION SERIES

Edited by PHILIP G.ALTBACH Monan Professor of Higher Education Lynch School of Education, Boston College

A ROUTLEDGEFALMER SERIES

OTHER BOOKS IN THIS SERIES: SAVING FOR COLLEGE AND THE TAX CODE A New Spin on the “Who Pays for College Education?” DebateAndrew P.Roth TECHNOLOGY TRANSFER VIA UNIVERSITY INDUSTRY RELATIONSHIP The Case of the Foreign High TechnologyElectronics Industry in Mexico’s Silicon ValleyMaria Isabel Rivera Vargas TENURE ON TRIAL Case Studies of Change in Faculty Employment PoliciesWilliam T.Mallon FROM HERE TO UNIVERSITY Access, Mobility, and Resilience Among Urban Latino YouthAlexander Jun SCHOLARSHIP UNBOUND Assessing Service as Scholarship for Promotion and TenureKerry Ann O’Meara BLACK STUDENT POLITICS Higher Education and Apartheid from SASO to SANSCO, 1968–1990Saleem Badat RESOURCE ALLOCATION IN PRIVATE RESEARCH UNIVERSITIES Daniel Rodas A DREAM DEFERRED? Examining the Degree Aspirations of AfricanAmerican and White College StudentsDeborah Faye Carter STATE GOVERNMENTS AND RESEARCH UNIVERSITIES A Framework for a Renewed PartnershipDavid J.Weerts FEDERALISM AND LÄNDER AUTONOMY The Higher Education Policy Network in the Federal Republic of GermanyCesare Onestini RESILIENT SPIRITS Disadvantaged Students Making it at an Elite UniversityLatty Lee Goodwin I PREFER TO TEACH An International Comparison of Faculty Preference for Teaching over ResearchJames JF Forest THE VIRTUAL DELIVERY AND VIRTUALORGANIZATION OF POSTSECONDARY EDUCATION Daniel M.Carchidi BARELY THERE, POWERFULLY PRESENT Thirty Years of U.S.Policy on International Higher EducationNancy L.Ruther

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A CALL TO PURPOSE Mission Centered Change at Three Liberal Arts CollegesMatthew Hartley A PROFILE OF THE COMMUNITY COLLEGE PROFESSORATE, 1975– 2000 Charles Outcalt POWER AND POLITICS IN UNIVERSITY GOVERNANCE Organization and Change at the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de MéxicoImanol Ordorika UNIVERSITY AUTONOMY IN THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION SINCE PERESTROIKA Olga B.Bain THE CALL FOR DIVERSITY Pressure, Expectation, and Organizational Response in the Postsecondary SettingDavid J.Siegel

PHILANTHROPISTS IN HIGHER EDUCATION Institutional, Biographical, and Religious Motivations for Giving

Gregory L.Cascione, Ph.D.

ROUTLEDGEFALMER NEW YORK & LONDON

Published in 2003 by RoutledgeFalmer 29 West 35th Street New York, NY 10001 RoutledgeFalmer is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group. This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2005. “To purchase your own copy of this or any of Taylor & Francis or Routledge’s collection of thousands of eBooks please go to www.eBookstore.tandf.co.uk.” Copyright © 2003 by Taylor and Francis, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilized in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without written permission from the publishers. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Cascione, Gregory L., 1958– Philanthropists in higher education: institutional, biographical, and religious motivations for giving/by Gregory L.Cascione. p. cm.—(RoutledgeFalmer studies in higher education) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-415-93361-7 (Print Edition) (hardcover: alk. paper) 1. Universities and colleges—United States—Endowments. 2. Benefactors—Charitable con tributions—United States. 3. Education, Higher—United States—Finance. I. Title. II. Series. LB2336.C39 2003 378.1’06–dc21 2002156761 ISBN 0-203-50870-X Master e-book ISBN

ISBN 0-203-57524-5 (Adobe eReader Format)

For Scott G.Nichols Mentor and Friend Thank you

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

SACRIFICIAL GENEROSITY TO HIGHER EDUCATION

1

Introduction

1

Conclusion

13

CONCEPTUALIZING PHILANTHROPIC MOTIVATION

14

Introduction

14

Altruism and Philanthropic Motivation

15

Religion and Philanthropic Motivation

22

American Religious Pluralism

24

Religion and the Founding of American Higher Education

29

Conclusion

31

THE UNIVERSITY AS RECIPIENT AND GENERATOR OF MAGNANIMOUS PHILANTHROPY

33

Introduction

33

Conclusion

55

OF RACCOON COATS: AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL EXPERIENCES OF GENEROSITY

58

Introduction

58

Conclusion

68

RELIGION IN THE LIVES OF MAJOR DONORS

70

Introduction

70

Judaism

72

Christianity

78

viii

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Appendix

The Non-Affiliated

83

Conclusion

85

PHILANTHROPIC THEMES AND POETIC THEORIZING

87

Introduction

87

Emergent Themes: Institutional Characteristics

89

Emergent Themes: Institutional Endeavors Favoring Philanthropy

92

Emergent Themes: Experiences of Generosity

95

Emergent Themes: Religion and Philanthropy

98

The Crossroads of Church and Alma Mater

101

Conclusion

105

PHILANTHROPIC SIGNS AND SYMBOLS

107

Introduction

107

Summary of Emergent Themes: Institutional Perspectives

108

Summary of Emergent Themes: Engaging the Major Donor

109

Summary of Emergent Themes: Formative Influences

111

Summary of Emergent Themes: The Role of Religion

112

Future Avenues for Research

121

Conclusion

124

Epilogue

126

METHODOLOGICAL PROCEEDINGS

127

BIBLIOGRAPHY

144

INDEX

152

CHAPTER 1 Sacrificial Generosity to Higher Education

INTRODUCTION The front page of a special section on “Giving” in the New York Times (December 9, 1997) featured a photograph that in many ways symbolizes the polarities involved with understanding people’s generosity. The photograph’s sub-headline captured well the dynamic: “From the Heart: Ted Turner gave a lot —$1 billion. Oseola McCarty gave her all—a life’s savings of $150,000.” McCarty’s gift is in many ways the more fascinating of the gifts because of its sacrificial nature. It was her gift to the University of Southern Mississippi that inspired Turner’s gift to the United Nations and many other act of generosity. As many of the stories about McCarty’s life detailed, she had been a washerwoman and lived in what most Americans would consider to be utter poverty, all the while amassing a nest egg of over $150,000. In preparation for her own death, McCarty decided to donate her life’s savings to a nearby university (which she never attended) for a scholarship fund earmarked for students who had financial difficulties. The juxtaposition of McCarty and Turner—two very distinctive philanthropists —points to contrasting gifts, both in size and in relationship to their net assets. While Ted Turner’s contribution to the United Nations is huge in absolute terms, it shrinks considerably when contrasted to his overall financial assets and lifestyle, especially when compared to McCarty’s much smaller gift to higher education that accounted for her entire cumulative net worth and extremely modest standard of living. While The New York Times article answered the rhetorical question posed under the photograph, “Why do we donate?” with a glib response: “It’s personal,” this book takes a deeper look at why individuals decide (like McCarty) to donate to higher education. Through interviews of individuals who contributed $1,000,000 or more to the University of Michigan, this book sheds light on those institutional programs and policies in higher education that encourage such magnanimous generosity and sustain an ongoing stream of these contributions. Contained within are the stories of why people made the gifts they did, what they are grateful for and how their lives were shaped by special people

2 PHILANTHROPISTS IN HIGHER EDUCATION

and events. These insights and perspectives offer readers a glimpse into the private worlds of philanthropy and how higher education shapes the context for magnanimous giving. Whether education, museums, social service agencies or faith-related projects so much in need of ongoing financial support, this book gives the reader a very rich and detailed perspective on why so many individuals with significant financial capability channel their philanthropy to higher education. This book also addresses the role of religion that has long described in the nonprofit world as “the mother of all philanthropy.” Perhaps the most intimate of all of the suggested motivations for philanthropy, religion is also the most difficult to access and assess. Major Gifts to Colleges and Universities Americans are notorious for they affection they feel for their alma maters. From Saturday college football games, to the ubiquitous clothing and paraphernalia with the name or logo of a particular institution, Americans identify powerfully with higher education, especially the school from which they graduated or attended. An outpouring of this affection can be seen in the form of gifts, and such generosity to higher education has long been a characteristic of American colleges and universities. In the nascent years of American higher education, philanthropic support, coupled with community contributions, state aid and church assistance, literally determined the existence or closure of an institution. As higher education continued to expand to fit the needs of American society, dependence on philanthropy continued to increase (Curti and Nash, 1965; Rudolph, 1990). The scope of efforts to secure philanthropy eventually became an institutional component (in the form of development offices) and now pervades virtually every kind and type of post-secondary institution. The tangible impact of philanthropy, which for methodological and practical consistency is defined as financial (as opposed to volunteer) contributions to higher education, accounted for an unprecedented $18.4 billion in 1998. This represents a 15 percent increase from the previous year and the largest percentage increase since 1986 (Billitteri, 1999). An estimated 87 percent of the $18.4 billion came from individuals, as opposed to corporations or foundations. While overall contributions to higher education have increased exponentially in the past two decades, the giving has come from a comparatively small number of donors. Recent statistics indicate that a mere 5 percent of the donors generate almost 95 percent of all gifts to higher education (Mercer, 1998). Higher education relies very heavily upon the generosity of an elite group of individuals who contribute significantly to these institutions. The extraordinary success that many institutions have had in securing philanthropic dollars has intensified the recruitment of those individuals capable of making multimillion-dollar gifts. Now a defining criterion of institutional prestige and excellence, philanthropy often replaces dollars that have been lost

SACRIFICIAL GENEROSITY TO HIGHER EDUCATION 3

due to declining support from federal and state sources. The constant need for increased revenues in American higher education comes at a time when many institutions have reached the maximum amount they can charge for tuition. As Leslie and Ramey (1988) noted, “voluntary support is becoming the only source of real discretionary money and in many cases is assuming a critical role in balancing institutional budgets” (p. 115–116). American Society and the Philanthropic Spirit The composition of American society creates a series of unique factors that strongly encourages individual volunteerism and philanthropy. A common definition of philanthropy as “voluntary giving, voluntary service, and voluntary association for the benefit of others…the prudent sister of charity” (Payton, 1988, p. 41), reflects distinctive cultural traits which demarcate philanthropy and volunteerism differently than government and for-profit industry. Participation in voluntary organizations continues to characterize American society. The economic and social engines which fuel the voluntary agencies are considered part of a “third sector” independent from (but not without ties to) government and for-profit industry. The non-profit sector relies heavily on gifts and time from individuals as a major source of its revenue (O’Neill, 1989) and therefore its existence. While American philanthropy retains aspects unique to its own tradition, the American philanthropic tradition draws on the many historical, legal and social links to England. Historical precedent, then, combined with economic incentives and religious admonitions (as well as a fundamental distrust of governmental interference), encourages individuals to become active participants by volunteering their time and contributing their financial resources to these quasi-independent, non-profit institutions. While other countries also have similar independent organizations, the United States is unique in the world for having generated an entire sector that encourages participation within institutions of social relevance and impact, alleviating and supplanting the government of duties other countries regard as governmental responsibilities (Bremner, 1988). American philanthropic habits had roots that preceded the republic (Curti, 1958), and historian Daniel Boorstin notes that community existed in the United States before any government took root, and these communities financially supported fledgling educational, religious and social service types of institutions (Boorstin, 1963). DeTocqueville recognized these habits and noted in Democracy in America (1831), that Americans joined political and civic voluntary organizations in surprising numbers and in dramatic contrast to European society. Partly as a way of building community in an agrarian society and partly in reaction to the pervasive power of elected political parties, Americans relieved their isolation from each other by creating associations which would supply an array of services that government and for-profit industry were either unwilling or unable to provide.

4 PHILANTHROPISTS IN HIGHER EDUCATION

Nothing, in my opinion, is more deserving of our attention than the intellectual and moral associations of America. The political and industrial associations of that country strike us forcibly; but the others elude our observation, or, if we discover them, we understand them imperfectly, because we have hardly ever seen anything of the kind. (De Tocqueville, 1831, p. 201.) More than one hundred years later, Max Lerner noted that the voluntary associations described by DeTocqueville serve as a collective expression which belies the outward atomism of American life and the incredible hunger for shared experience. Citing sociologist Max Weber who remarked that voluntary associations bridge the transition between the closed hierarchical society of Europe and the fragmented individualism of American society, Lerner believes that the national good is bound up with voluntary organizations (Lerner, 1957, pp. 81–82). Lerner’s observations of voluntary support were also evident in Vidich and Bensam’s study of a Small Town in Mass Society (1968). Voluntary efforts took on the form of an expected set of reciprocal exchanges, with mutual self-help organizations forming a network of interconnected support systems, all with the goal of “neighborliness”: “In a way the whole system takes on the character of insurance” (p. 36). Distinguishing Philanthropy from Charity Philanthropy, simply defined as “love of mankind,” traces its earliest American roots to the religious writings of individuals such as the Puritan ministers John Winthrop and Cotton Mather. Winthrop’s sermon of charity, for example, was preached to “the real founders of American philanthropy…men and women who crossed the Atlantic to establish communities that would be better than, instead of like or different from, the ones they had known at home” (Bremner, 1988, p. 7). An expansive definition of philanthropy includes “voluntary giving, voluntary service, and voluntary association, primarily for the benefit of others; and (philanthropy is)…the prudent sister of charity, philanthropy and charity being intertwined threads throughout most of the 3,500 years of the philanthropic tradition in Western civilization” (Payton, 1988, p. 32). The “prudent sister of charity” suggests a philosophical distinction that can be traced to the historical and social milieu of the fledgling American republic. American philanthropy is quite dissimilar to the notion of charitable assistance found throughout the world and in particular contrast to a European understanding of charity. Where philanthropy is traditionally considered a public virtue, inviting participation, community enrichment and flexibility, charity is seen as more private and personal (Boorstin, 1963; Curti, 1965). In contemporary American parlance “…philanthropy means substantial support by foundations, corporations and private donors for nonprofit institutions that provide worthy

SACRIFICIAL GENEROSITY TO HIGHER EDUCATION 5

services or work toward solving significant social problems” (Wolpert, 1993, p. 5). In contrast, “charity…resembles justice in being a virtue concerned with the distribution of goods…it concerns the spiritual or moral condition of each individual (Schneewind, 1996, p. 54). Where charity is often directed at basic survival needs of particular individuals, “…philanthropy has covered a wider field than charity; the problems of the poor have not been philanthropy’s only or even primary concern. The aim of philanthropy in its broadest sense is improvement in the quality of human life. Whatever motives animate individual philanthropists, the purpose of philanthropy itself is to promote the welfare, happiness and culture of mankind” (Bremner, 1988, p. 3). In general, philanthropy is often earmarked toward institutions that provide the infrastructure to “uplift” individuals, in contrast to the immediate bodily concerns which charity handles. “Charity and philanthropy are distinct concepts, although the term philanthropy is now used to encompass both. In a contemporary context, charity is a part of philanthropy, but only a minor part. Philanthropy is broader than serving the needs of the poor, which primarily are met through direct taxation, not tax subsidies” (Kelly, 1998, p. 15). Giving to higher education is best understood as philanthropic, since it is most often indirect and programmatic and the institution is expected to deliver the means for instruction or other benefits of education. Researching Motivations for Philanthropy Responding to the necessity of having to identify individuals who are capable of and willing to make substantial gifts to higher education, as well as a concurrent research interest in philanthropy, several studies have yielded significant insight into the why and wherefore of the philanthropic process. The research on philanthropic motivation seems to be in general agreement that motivation is a multi-layered concept: “…rigorous scientific studies of philanthropists during the past two decades suggest that mixed motives are the rule rather than the exception” (Martin, 1994, p. 124). Robert Frank (1996) adds: “… any theory of charitable giving based exclusively on one type of motive or the other will inevitably fail to capture an essential aspect of reality” (p. 137). While the terms “philanthropic motivation” and “motivations for philanthropy” (used synonymously in this book) emanate from a wide spec trum of academic disciplines and sub-disciplines, there seems to be several rather distinctive avenues by which the research community understands motivations for philanthropy. Traditional academic disciplines recognize psychology, sociology and economics as areas where the greatest amount of research and theorizing relevant to philanthropy has been accomplished. Researchers have also assembled around the study of philanthropy as a distinct phenomenon, and these scholars, from fields as diverse as social work and business, have

6 PHILANTHROPISTS IN HIGHER EDUCATION

augmented the traditional academic approaches by focusing on philanthropy from their own disciplinary perspectives. The research on donor behavior to higher education has been widely studied, as doctoral dissertations continue to investigate what separates donors from nondonors, the demographic characteristics of those donors and the institutional particularities that encourage (or discourage) philanthropy. One of the extraordinary findings within the plethora of these dissertations is the variability of donative behavior among higher education, with “current status, beliefs and behavior of alumni somewhat more helpful in predicting their behavior as donors, though simple demographic variables prove poor predictors… Perhaps the best predictors of alumni giving are an emotional attachment to the school, participation in alumni events and participation in and donation to other voluntary and religious groups” (Brittingham and Pezzullo, 1990, p. 40). Approaching donor behavior from a motivational perspective better grapples with the conceptual relevance of beliefs and emotional attachments than would the traditional predictive or donor descriptive studies. An Overview of Philanthropic Motivation Motivation in philanthropic theory is often understood as a series of intentions borne from an array of biographical, psychological and cultural venues. This psycho-social perspective is often closely associated with the concept of altruism, which has been bandied about in the social and physical sciences, as well as the humanities. Robert Wuthnow (1993) unpacks a sociological look at altruism and recognizes that: It is not overly simplified to suggest that two views of altruism dominate the social-psychological literature today. Either altruism is a subjective state, such as personality disposition, attitude, value or motive, from which predictions can be made about expected kinds of behavior, or altruism is a black box that cannot be observed directly but can be inferred by manipulation situations and examining subsequent patterns of behavior. (p. 353) Wuthnow suggests that both views are limited, and this is especially evident when the individual speaks on his or her own behalf, as altruism is “more complex than social-psychological conceptions would presuppose …it becomes evident that altruism cannot be separated from the language through which it is conveyed. That is part of what makes it distinct, identi fiable, understandable as altruism is the fact that it is spoken, interpreted, rather than simply being an internal state or an unobservable black box.” (Wuthnow, 1993, p. 353–354). An alternative perspective examines the ultimate use of a gift and how that reflects the donor’s motivation. The teleological approach recognizes philanthropy as a social relationship (Ostrander and Schervish, 1990; Schervish

SACRIFICIAL GENEROSITY TO HIGHER EDUCATION 7

1994, 1995), and how that relationship is borne out (for instance, where the dollars go and how they are used) suggests the donor’s intent “is a form of human interaction in which donors respond to the needs of others as valuable in their own right” (Schervish, 1994, p. 4). Schervish seeks to differentiate his conception of philanthropic motivation—an “identification model”—by contrasting it with the more traditional understandings of philanthropy as an outgrowth of altruism: By motivation, I refer not to the moralistic distinction between so-called noble and base intentions, or between altruistic and self-serving aspirations. Rather, by motivation I refer to the array of associations, experiences, goals and orientations that generate people’s charitable giving….” (Schervish, 1995, p. III-A-1). By defining philanthropy as a social relation, Schervish accentuates the consequences and implications of acts of philanthropy, more so than the motives that spurred on such acts. Schervish offers an important contrasting schema, as he coins the term mobilizing factors (1995) to express those dimensions/ descriptors of the philanthropic process that “induce financial philanthropy” (1995, II-A-1). Research on the specific topic of philanthropic motivation hails primarily from survey and elite interviewing research, often by scholars and practitioners in nonprofit centers. Such scholarship has been helpful in formulating an essentially grounded theory understanding of philanthropic motivation. For example, the efforts of Yankelovich, Skelly & White (1986) and Hodgkinson & Weitzman (1988, 1992), have refined and recast a set of theories that had been often anecdotal musings from the world of practitioners of philanthropy. A combination of statistical techniques, e.g., factor analyses (Prince and File, 1994) and a mixture of methodologically rigorous designs (Schervish, 1993; Mixer, 1993; Ostrower, 1995) have dramatically improved the intellectual approaches to the study of philanthropy and, subsequently, motivations for philanthropy. The following table represents research on philanthropic motivation: Table 1±1: Specialized Research on Philanthropic Motivation Author

Sample

Gibbons, 1992 Hodgkinson & Weitzman, 1992 Prince & File, 1994 Odendahl, 1990 Ostrower, 1995 Reilly, 1992

150 individuals who gave $100k 2,671 randomly-selected individuals 218 “affluent” clients 140 “wealthy” donors 99 “wealthy” donors in NYC environs 17 individuals, 8 corporations and 5 family foundations that contributed $1 million or more to the University of Arizona.

8 PHILANTHROPISTS IN HIGHER EDUCATION

Author

Sample

Silberg, 1990

13 donors who contributed $1 million to any higher education institution

The Hodgkinson & Weitzman (1992) research asked specifically about motivations for giving and volunteering. According to their randomly selected telephone sample, the most important motive for giving and volunteering reported by the largest proportion [55 percent] was that “they should help those who had less” (p. 203). Additional responses included “a feeling of personal satisfaction” [43 percent] and “meeting their religious beliefs or commitment” [41 percent]) (p. 203). While Hodgkinson & Weitzman did not necessarily target the very wealthy (those with incomes in excess of $200,000) they were able to sample “affluent” Americans (household incomes of $60,000) and found that membership in religious organizations has a direct relationship to contributing and volunteering. They also found that among the “generous” givers, namely those who gave 3 percent or more of their household income, 84 percent reported that they attend religious services regularly. Prince and File (1994) performed a cluster analysis on data from profiles of 218 affluent donors, who in their sample were individuals who maintain “$1 million or more in a discretionary investment advisory account and who contributed $50,000 or more to a single nonprofit within the last two years” (Prince and File, 1994, p. 9). The resulting categorization of an individual’s approach to philanthropy as “a set of typical attitudes and beliefs, a range of considerations, a process of evaluation, and a style of involvement with nonprofits” (p. 13) demarcate one predominant motivation among others. The Prince and File research was very helpful in creating a typology of philanthropists; however, since cluster analysis allows for only one underlying factor to emerge, the Prince and File typology cannot account for an overlapping of an individual’s motivations. Ostrower’s research (1995) on the culture of elite philanthropy suggests that philanthropic giving is tied to the donor’s sense of identity that can emanate from class, ethnicity, religion or gender (p. 6). Understanding institutional affiliations and institutional characteristics will clarify philanthropic motives. The purpose of the gift, or the nature of the activity engaged in by the recipient organization, is a central element in how donors think about and carry out their philanthropy. Accordingly, attending to the area of activity of the gift is important both to understanding the meaningfulness of philanthropic participation to donors and to explaining the form that their participation assumes (p. 8).

SACRIFICIAL GENEROSITY TO HIGHER EDUCATION 9

Ostrower clearly recognizes institutional characteristics as central to identifying the specialized role institutions have in encouraging philanthropy, augmenting the theory under girding philanthropic motivation. Those specific institutional characteristics that encourage elite philanthropy to higher education may account for gaps in a more complete understanding of philanthropic motivations. Odendahl’s (1990) research takes an anthropological perspective of wealthy individuals with an emphasis on the “social structures in which they live” (p. xii). Odendahl makes important distinctions between those donors who inherit their wealth versus the “self-made” millionaires. Odendahl’s research critiques American elite philanthropy both for its generosity as well as its selfinterestedness. According to a review of Odendahl’s book by Prince and File (1994), “Odendahl’s work also indicated the importance of religious motivations in giving…religious motivations vary across donors, being more relevant to some than to others” (p. 4). The findings from the research were consistent with the understanding that motivations are “dynamic and interactive,” and religion emerged decisively as a strategic motivation. While this may not be surprising in the case of Gibbons’ (1992) work, as it sampled donors to higher education in Utah (with its strong Mormon/religious influence), Reilly’s work was focused on a Southwestern Research One University. Reilly (1992) navigated the topic of religion by subsuming it under the category of altruism which was defined in his dissertation as “generosity, or selflessness, motivated by sympathy for the well-being of others, by social norms, or by individual feelings of commitment” (p. 68). An economist by training, Reilly’s conceptual framework viewed all philanthropy as an outgrowth of utility maximization (even altruists benefit from giving), quite in keeping with classical economic philosophy. Silberg (1990) researched 13 individuals who contributed $1 million to any educational institution and included outright as well as planned gifts. Beginning with a convenience sample, she employed a “snowballing effect” and was limited by geography. By using a combination of narrative analysis and content analysis, Silberg found that the religiosity of parents and family was an extremely important consideration. Because Silberg was addressing issues of overall motivation, her analysis of religion was quite naturally, limited. Understanding the Role of Religion in the Motivations for Philanthropy to Higher Education While donors have cited specific religious themes as an aspect of their motivation in giving to education (Yankelovich, Skelly & White, 1986), what is known about the interplay of religion and philanthropy to education is quite limited. For a variety of reasons, concepts involving religion have been ignored by traditional social science research. Indeed, the single most widely discussed omission in philanthropic motivation is the role and influence of religion (Hodgkinson, 1989; Wuthnow, 1990; Hall, 1990). “The scholarship of

10 PHILANTHROPISTS IN HIGHER EDUCATION

philanthropy has given religion remarkably short shrift. This deficiency is particularly striking in view of the fact that churches and denominationally-tied institutions command nearly two-thirds of all the contributions. This oversight is curious, not only because of the quantitative significance of religious organizations but also because of a number of compelling qualitative reasons for them as a part of the nonprofit sector…there is suggestive evidence that churches play an important role in stimulating non-religious voluntarism, whose impact is community wide” (Hall, 1992, p. 115). The influence and impact of religion is a substantial omission in a comprehensive understanding of philanthropic motivation, for as Payton (1994) comments: “Religion is the most powerful and extensive aspect of philanthropy” (p. 7). This chasm between the perception of the role of religion in motivations for philanthropy and the reality of a limited knowledge base to draw from is especially troubling for higher education. The effect of education on philanthropic giving (particularly among the wealthy) points to a curious movement away from religious-denominational giving to support for nonreligious cultural and social institutions: “Wealthy respondents tend to give higher proportions of their total charitable gifts to colleges and universities than do less wealthy respondents, whose giving tends to favor religion” (Pezzullo and Brittingham, 1993, p. 32). The reasons for this shift have yet to be identified, but if, as Rimor and Tobin (1990) suggest, philanthropic behavior is an expression of religious identity, then perhaps philanthropy to higher education has an underlying foundation of religious themes which either supplant or augment congregational giving. “Social scientists, whose vision of society is to develop a purely rationalist universe, have neglected to study religion and its impact on human motivation. Shils, a sociologist, warned against social scientists destroying tradition because of the lack of understanding it” (Hodgkinson, 1989, pp. 118 & 121). Since research indicates that motives involving religion and philanthropy intersect at many junctures, the gap in philanthropic theory about how religion impacts philanthropy to higher education is highly problematic. The lack of synthetic analysis and theoretical formulation about this intersection leaves a chasm which could very well spell the difference between a college’s mere financial survival or its flourishing. Religion and giving Numerous studies show the correlation between religious affiliation and voluntary and philanthropic activity to be robust (Wuthnow and Hodgkinson, 1990; Wood and Hougland, 1990). Studies also indicate that religious affiliation also promotes giving to non-religious causes (Wood and Houghland; Mixer, 1993). Religious admonitions to be generous, as well as habitual practices of giving to religion or religious causes, have affected the climate of charitable giving to secular as well as religious causes and institutions. “The functions of

SACRIFICIAL GENEROSITY TO HIGHER EDUCATION 11

the church (temple) as a social institution extend far beyond the limitations of its own direct activities” (Moberg, cited in Hodgkinson, 1990, p. 292). While many Americans recognize the importance of religion in their lives, very little empirical research has been undertaken on the interplay between religion and philanthropy. According to Gurin and Van Til, “Religious organizations have been a major, if not the greatest, influence in developing the tradition of giving and volunteering to both spiritual and secular causes” (1990, p. 151). This strong assertion is borne out in the following statistics from Hodgkinson & Weitzman’s Giving and Volunteering in the United States (1992): • Membership in religious organizations has a direct relationship to the proportion of the population that contributes and volunteers. Those respondents who attended religious services in the past year reported giving 2. 1 percent of their household income compared to 0.6 percent for those who did not attend religious services. For those who attended services weekly, the percentage of household income contributed rose to 3.2 percent. • Those who attend religious services weekly volunteered an average of 3.2 hours per week, as compared to those who attended at some time in the previous year (2.4 hours) and those who did not attend at all (1.4 hours). • Of those who attended religious services weekly, 88 percent reported that their households’ contributions to charity increased with the frequency of church attendance, compared to 57 percent of increased giving by those who did not attend weekly services. Of the many theories that circulate about the inter-correlation between giving and religious participation, religion seems to serve as a kind of moral discourse, which allows “individuals to think and talk about their actions in selfless terms” (Wood and Houghland, 1990, p. 102). Additionally, institutional affiliation provides a specialized factor within motivation, as “we must be plugged into social arrangements where group expectations press us toward specific actions” (Wood and Houghland, 1990, p. 102). The research in this book was guided by two broad questions: 1. What are the motivations for major donor philanthropy to higher education? 2. What is, or has been, the role of religion in the lives of these major donors to higher education? This study explores the motivations for giving to higher education by a group of philanthropists and further seeks to clarify the impact of religion as a cultural force and a source of motivation within the lives of generous donors to higher education. The experiences, modes of understanding, and the language that philanthropists use to discuss the reasons why they give and how their religious perspective does or does not impact their generosity may help to clarify and enlighten the current knowledge base of philanthropic motivation. Paul

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Schervish (1990) frames the question well: “What is religion as a particular type of normative consciousness, and just what is it about religion—and certain non theistic spiritualities—that helps to mobilize attention to the needs of others?” (p. 64). Presentation of the Study The study is presented in seven chapters. Chapter Two provides a literature review encompassing the most relevant insights in the study of altruism. Chapter Three details the particular attributes endemic to higher education which enhance an individual’s philanthropic motivation and includes a special section on the role of the Development officer in the motivation equation. Chapter Four unpacks the childhood and other historical experiences of generosity, seeking to understand the biographical and emotional roots of motivations for philanthropy. Chapter Five presents the findings on the role of religion in the lives of the major donors. In Chapter Six, I interpret the findings, seeking to unpack, augment and refine what we currently know about motivations for philanthropy to higher education. Finally, chapter Seven summarizes the study and suggests areas of research that can augment the intellectual discussion. The Appendix discusses the research design: why it was chosen, how it was employed, and issues relating to methodological approaches and concerns. Contribution to Scholarship One of the criticisms concerning the intellectual substance under girding contemporary understandings of philanthropy is that scholarship rarely builds on any previous research. This study is, in fact, modeled upon previous scholarly inquiry and attempts to further what is known about motivations for philanthropy to higher education. This study is also valuable because it focuses on those institutional factors specific to higher education that encourages individual philanthropy. It is also significant because this work unpacks the complex topic of religion to find out just how it helps to instill a sense of generosity. Both topics are often, but not necessarily, inter-related, and the inter-relationship helps to clarify the internal dynamic of both higher education and religion. Andrew Greeley (1990), in an autobiographical article, mentions the gap in knowledge concerning the symbols which various religions employ and ponders: “Might it not be…that if we could get adequate measures of religion as a culture system, as a system of symbols of ultimate meaning, we would have a more powerful predictor variable and win more respectability for religion as a sociological phenomenon?” (p. 144). In many ways, this work attempts to win such respectability, as it attempts to understand religion as both a sociological and a philanthropic phenomenon.

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CONCLUSION Higher education relies on the philanthropy of many individuals to sustain and to expand its intellectual endeavors at home and abroad. Motivations for philanthropy to higher education coalesce around a myriad of factors and these motivations encompass the scope of this work. What is described in the following chapters will help both the academic researcher and casual reader understand the dynamics of philanthropic commitment and how history, biography, institutional elements and religion all play decidedly unique roles. How to interpret these roles to replicate individual generosity will spell the future success of American higher education in the years to come.

CHAPTER 2 Conceptualizing Philanthropic Motivation

INTRODUCTION Besides being the birthplace of country singer Randy Travis, rural North Carolina lays claim to Pinehurst No. 2, once described as a “brilliant deceptive form of strategic design.” Golfers lucky enough to play on the course know that they’ll need more than luck to be able to maneuver the sloping greens, deep bunkers and sandy soil. “Pinehurst No. 2 does not take one’s breath away with spectacle… It is the very epitome of subtlety” (Gordon, 1995, p. 145). The arsenal of clubs in a golfer’s bag enables the golfer to maneuver the subtlety from tee to fairway and onward to the green. Each club is manufactured for a specific purpose, and the selection of clubs for particular shots depends upon an individual golfer’s talents and habits—and recommendation from an astute caddie. Successful course management necessitates, among other factors, the careful selection of appropriate clubs. One way of conceiving of motivations for philanthropy to higher education might be to think of motivations as one might a set of golf clubs. Motivations are many, varied, and their impact depends greatly on individual and organizational characteristics. No single motivation will likely command the power to complete the full philanthropic task. Each successful philanthropic endeavor (or hole) will depend upon which motivations (or clubs) are instrumental in pushing the process forward to a successful conclusion. And as Pinehurst is internationally recognized as one of the finest golf courses ever constructed. American higher education also enjoys an equally distinguished reputation, engineered by a myriad of philanthropists and on par with the world’s finest institutions. This chapter reviews the terrain of motivations for philanthropy as it presents a focused literature review on the foundations of altruism. It begins with a discussion of the problem of defining altruism and then moves to an analysis of the major concepts involved in a comprehensive under standing of altruism. After surveying the key themes from various disciplines, a discussion of the sociology of religion and religion as a motivating factor, follows. This chapter

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concludes with a brief overview of the role of religion in the founding of American higher education. Scholarship Pertaining to Philanthropy As mentioned in Chapter One, research interest in philanthropy has grown so extensively that there now exists a body of knowledge that serves as an intellectual resource for those interested in scholarly pursuits of philanthropic theory. Research centers on philanthropy (both affiliated with and independent from major universities) are the hub of such academic inquiry. The research performed in concert with these centers, most often under the rubric of a “nonprofit” specialization, has helped to establish and to refine a more scholarly approach to the American phenomenon of philanthropy than the previous anecdotal-yet often insightful-musings. As a relatively new intellectual phenomenon, scholarship pertinent to philanthropy is unique in the academic environment precisely because of its interdisciplinary and cross-disciplinary nature. Scholarly research and writing deciphering the motivations for philanthropy emanate from a decidedly broad array of quantitative and qualitative methodologies. The traditional academic disciplines that contain topics relevant to philanthropic motivation include psychology, sociology and economics. Increasingly, researchers in the new field of philanthropic studies supply additional insights into this human phenomenon. ALTRUISM AND PHILANTHROPIC MOTIVATION Any framework developed for a comprehensive understanding of philanthropic behavior needs to be grounded in the study of altruism and numerous studies have shown that altruism is a highly complex concept (Bar-Tal, 1976; Hoffman, 1976; Krebs, 1970). While most theorists agree that the existence of a “pure” altruism is highly unlikely, behaviors which can be described as socially and personally constructive do indeed exist: “…every society has some institutionalized forms of ‘positive’ behavior. It is generally accepted that, without these, human life as we know it would be impossible” (Wispe, 1978, p. 326). Social scientists have long recognized the phenomenon of interpersonal helping behavior, but only during the latter part of the twentieth century has the topic received substantial scholarly inquiry. Previous discussions of the positive attributes of human behavior were often disregarded in favor of the darker side of human nature. Maslow pinpointed the gap: The science of psychology has been far more successful on the negative side than on the positive side; it has revealed much to us about man’s shortcomings, his illnesses, his sins, but little about his potentialities, his virtues, his achievable aspirations, or his full psychological height… (Maslow, in Hodgkinson 1989)

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Comte has been given credit for the initial definition of altruism as an “unselfish desire to live for others” (Batson, 1991, p. 5), and this definition was described in opposition to a desire to benefit others that was essentially selfish or “egoistic” (Schoenrade, Batson et. al., 1986). While Comte’s early definition employs little of the theoretical structure of contemporary discussions of altruism, his distinction between a “pure altruism” and an “egoistic altruism” are at the core of the ongoing definitional problem of altruism. Enlarging the Definition of Altruism While some theorists continue to distinguish between as a “pure” and “selfish” altruism as well as from other forms of prosocial behavior, e.g., reciprocity behavior, compensatory behavior (Bar-Tal, 1976), Batson suggests that what is needed is essentially a more comprehensive understanding of altruism: Advocates of altruism do not deny that the motivation for much of what we do for others is egoistic. But they claim that there is more. They claim that at least some of us, to some degree, under some circumstances, were capable of a qualitatively different form of motivation, motivation with an ultimate goal of benefiting someone else (Batson, 1991, p. 2). A broadening of the term “altruism” to include motivational distinctions that can be simultaneously self-directed and other-directed reflects more accurately the complexity involved in understanding altruistic behavior than it does any scientific or disciplinary consensus. Wispe suggests that the term “positive social behavior” be used as a definition of altruism that would encompass the range of internal and external motivations and also take into consideration the terms “helping behavior” and “prosocial behavior” (Wispe, 1978, p. xiv). Recasting the definition of altruism also permits a theorist like Losco (1986) to survey the terrain of literature on altruism by locating two distinctive routes, behavioral approaches to altruism (which he refers to as behavioral models) and motivational approaches to altruism. The following is a discussion of the major themes found in the psychosocial literature on altruism. These themes were chosen for both their popularity in the literature as well their possible relationship to philanthropic motivation. Situational Approaches Situational approaches seek to identify environmentally or outwardly induced variables (as opposed to personality variables) that aid in explaining altruistic behavior. A popular topic among social psychologists because of the ease of experimentation (the independent variables can be manipulated without a great deal of complexity), situational approaches are often defined operationally, e.g., donating money to the Salvation Army at Christmas (Krebs, 1970). These

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approaches assume that, for purposes of prediction, all individuals are the same. Any ability to predict future actions via situational approaches is minimal, as duplication of the situation in non-laboratory settings (i.e., normal life experience) is highly unlikely. The situational approach is commonly referred to as “bystander behavior” or “bystander effect.” Simply put, individuals respond differently when they perceive that there are others who can offer assistance in emergency situations (Latane and Darley, 1970). The infamous murder of Kitty Genovese in 1964 that occurred while 38 neighbors watched passively (Bar-Tal, 1976) spurred an interest in by-stander behavior. Social psychologists Latane and Darley, who were among the early pioneers in bystander behavior (essentially situational approaches), suggest that modeling plays a large part in whether or not an individual will participate in the emergency. In the Genovese case, the victim cried to the general public for help; subsequent research has shown that when an individual asks a specific individual for assistance, the likelihood of a positive response is greatly increased (Oliner and Oliner, 1988). Research in the situational approach suggests that decreased responsibility occurs when there is a perception that there are a sufficient number of individuals who can respond to the need. Application to higher education philanthropy:

The importance of asking a specific individual for assistance corresponds with evidence from surveys on philanthropic giving: the most common reason mentioned for non-donation is not having been asked (Piliavin & Charng, 1990). The situational approach is relevant to philanthropic motivation to higher education, as ‘emergency’ situations may encourage donations from individuals to institutions where the need seems to be particularly great. Philanthropy behavior based on an emergency mentality will be limited by necessary infrequency of tapping into this motivation, as emergencies, by definition, are rare occurrences. Fund raising opportunities that can take advantage of special occurrences, i.e. reunions, anniversaries, while not viewed as emergencies, will be able to tap into situational helping behaviors. Economic Approaches Economic theory, particularly since the Enlightenment, has been based on the notion of a “rational” self-interest, a perspective that basically dismisses as absurd any policy or strategy that does not directly or indirectly benefit the provider of the gift. Economic philosophers such as Hobbes, Mills and Bentham suggested, in different ways, that each of us acts to protect ourselves first and foremost. While these philosophical economists may acknowledge the benefits of altruism, those benefits are recognized as essentially self-interested, involving economically sound decisions:

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It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer or the baker that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest. We address ourselves not to their humanity but to their self-love, and…of their advantages. (Smith, 1776 in Collard, 1978, p. 52) Traditional economic approaches are based on cost/benefit analyses that suggest that individuals seek maximum utility for minimal cost. In these models, selfinterested “economic man” is considered rational and rationality and self-interest are often taken as one and the same thing (Collard, 1978; Frank, 1996). Humans, accordingly, are inherently egocentric, and altruistic decisions become fairly easy to predict, as individuals will act to secure their own pure self-interest, even when performing altruistic behavior. Adam Smith suggests in The Theory of Moral Sentiments, that while humans may be selfish, they are also capable of generosity. Unfortunately, as Donald Frey (1996) points out, economic theorists have largely forgotten this aspect of Smith’s writings, and indeed, Smith’s thoughts concerning human action as essentially, if not entirely, self-interested, has been the cornerstone for economic theory ever since. Frey also unmasks an extraordinary bias in the view of economists, citing evidence that economists act more self-interestedly than non economists: “In short, the axiom of self-interest serves as far more than the starting point for scientific hypothesizing—it becomes a moral principle by which those who believe the axiom actually relate to others” (Frey, 1996, p. 295). While these traditional perspectives offers a jaded view of human nature, recent theory seems to be undercutting Enlightenment definitions of what it means to be human. Perspectives voiced by Collard (1978) and Schumacher (1973) have begun to undercut the traditional belief that altruism indicates market failure by suggesting that altruism supplies a “value that cannot be evaluated in any marketplace” (Collard, 1978, p. 145). Application to higher education philanthropy:

Traditional economic theory may be relevant for philanthropic motivations to higher education, as individuals may frame their giving as a cost/benefit ratio. In these situations, philanthropy is seen as a rational investment in the infrastructure of society. Newer understandings of the affective side of personalities may heighten the notion that giving to others may be an essential element of human nature and in that sense a form of “rational” behavior. Exchange Theory Gift giving is a societal phenomenon, found within a myriad of cultures and having rituals akin to contemporary philanthropic giving. Marcel Mauss’ The Gift outlines the importance of gift giving in primitive societies. Mauss critiques

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the supposedly involuntary nature of gifts by underscoring the notion of obligation as a matter of life and death. Gift giving was a ritualistic aspect of tribal societies-the gifts exchanged were between clans, and served as a form of commerce, alliance, trust and political savvy. Indeed, rational self-interest often entered into the giving relationship, for refusing a gift could be considered an act of war. Gift giving was also competitive, and those giving the larger and more elaborate gifts were demonstrating their power and wealth (Mauss, 1954). Mauss’ research highlights the institutionalization of societal norms for giftgiving, as obligations for giving as well as for receiving are contingent upon implied and expected reciprocity. Exchange theory “assume(s) that people make voluntary transactions— either through market transaction or gift making—to receive some benefit” (Wilmont, 1990, p. 492). Such benefits are often viewed as an aspect of exchange theory, which is based on a two-person, two-good situation in which each party benefits from the mutual exchange of tangible goods (Brittingham and Pezzullo, 1990; Blau, 1986). Social exchange differs from economic exchange in that, “the basic and most crucial distinction is that social exchange entails unspecified obligations…while there is a general expectation of some future return, its exact nature is definitely not stipulated in advance” (Blau, 1986, p. 93). Application to higher education philanthropy:

Exchange theory may provide insights into understandings of philanthropy giving to higher education, as it highlights the tangible, monetary benefits of such prosocial behavior. According to Brittingham and Pezzullo, “The economists’ exchange theory is based on a two-person, two-good situation which each party benefits from the mutual exchange of tangible goods. The part about tangible goods was a stumbling block in developing theories of private giving until economists decided that charity theory could be based upon the utility to the donor of the gift given. The utility could be altruism or an indirect benefit (maintaining or enhancing the prestige of one’s alma mater) or more direct (the prestige associated with giving)” (1990, p. 34). Reciprocal Altruism Reciprocal altruism (Trivers, 1971) is an evolutionary model which suggests that individuals will cooperate with one another (related or unrelated) only if there is a reward or payback sometime in the future. Reciprocal altruism furthers the notion of kin selection by suggesting that in human society, it pays to be a caring person because such behavior in creases the probability of a “payoff” in the future. According to Smithson et. al., “Patterns of reciprocal altruism, while under genetic control, could still occur among individuals not related by common descent. Because reciprocal altruism requires enduring relationships and reliable

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memory, it is common in human society but rare in animal societies” (1983, p. 11). Application to higher education philanthropy:

Reciprocal altruism may be especially relevant for philanthropic motivation to higher education. The relationship between individuals and institutions, particularly in an educational environment where an individual receives a credential that may last a life time, may be one of expected generosity on the institution’s part. The issue of admission consideration for children of alumni/ae (legacies) may also tap into the notion of reciprocity. Parental Nurturing and Role Modeling The role of parents and the parental influence upon behavioral traits of their children suggests that parental modeling of altruistic behavior, along with a close rapport with the child, has a significant effect on altruistic behavior when the child becomes an adult (Bar-Tal, 1976; Rosenhan, 1970). For example, the research into “fully committed” civil rights volunteers showed that their home environment helped them identify simply and profoundly with the movement: “They have learned, by loving precept and percept, to respond easily to the needs of others. Such a response is evoked by the structure of their perceptions of the environment” (Rosenhan, 1970, p. 140). Parental nurturing also instills empathy, a key affective disposition in responding to those in need. Empathy seems to be the linchpin of altruism, as “empathetic distress” motivates individuals to relieve the difficult situation. Modeling theory is a form of reinforcement theory which focuses on the impact parents and other immediate family members have on children. Role models who exhibit compassion have a positive effect during and after childhood and adolescence (Hunt, 1990). Theories of self-reinforcement suggest that the charitable act itself has built upon earlier behavioral standards. By imitating pro-social acts, the children experienced positive feedback—and individuals grew to think of themselves as “good” (Rosenhan 1978; Miley, 1980). Repeated performance of a voluntary act, over time, increases the level of moral obligation, and external motivations for pro-social behavior decreases (Lightman, 1982, cited in Piliavin & Charng, 1990). The Oliner (1988) research on rescuers of Jews during the Holocaust demonstrated that a strongly positive relationship with parents and the home environment, coupled with the instilling of values and the role modeling of a caring personality were the most significant attributes separating rescuers from non-rescuers. Monroe’s (1996) research (also on rescuers) confirms much of the Oliner study by suggesting that altruists “are strongly linked to others through a shared humanity. This self-perception …leaves them with no choice in their

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behavior toward others” (p. 216). The home environment shapes how an individual relates to the world through relationships with parents and parental figures, and acts as the ground swell of internalized values of caring and concern which, when modeled by parents and in interaction with existing personality traits, affects the altruistic personality (Hunt, 1990). Application to higher education philanthropy:

Modeling theory may have the potential to explain an aspect of philanthropic motivation, as individuals who contribute substantially to higher education are held in high esteem by the institution and community, receiving substantial public recognition (e.g., naming of a building or room, invitations to special events) for their contributions. Through public relations mechanisms, these individuals may in fact become exemplars of worthy imitation, with the subsequent effect of encouraging others to match the individual’s generosity. Although much of the research on modeling has been done with children, there seems to be a relationship between modeling and altruism even among an adult population (Piliavin and Charng, 1990). Attribution Theory/Habitual Actions Repetition of an individual’s act seems to alter the motivation from externally inspired to internally (unconsciously) driven: “With the repeated performance of a voluntary act over time, the sense of personal, moral obligation assumed increasing importance as a motivator; a supportive and favorable context in general became much less vital” (Lightman, 1982, in Piliavin & Charng, 1990, p. 43). Attribution theory suggests that when individuals perceive that they are acting independently of external coercion, they posit a personal predisposition toward that action. However, if the external pressure is too great, the individual may not posit the same personality trait and thus: “the use of extrinsic pressure to elicit helping from morally mature adults can backfire” (Batson, et. al. 1987, p. 595 in Piliavin & Charng, 1990, p. 43). Application to higher education philanthropy:

Attribution theory may be linked to the philanthropic motivations associated with habitual (or annual) giving, a very common form of fundraising in higher education circles. Instilling such habits will be programatically important. However, if too much pressure is exerted, these efforts will “backfire”, e.g. public pressure to contribute to a given cause.

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RELIGION AND PHILANTHROPIC MOTIVATION As interpreted through cultural lenses, religion has found an intellectual home in the sociological arena. The sociology of religion, that is, the inter jection of the social sciences into interpretations of religion, began inauspiciously with Max Muller’s publication, “Introduction to the Science of Religion” in 1873 (Pals, p. 3). Sociologists and anthropologists interested in the phenomenon of religion have assembled a set of theories about the origin, nature, impact and dissemination of religion as essentially a cultural phenomenon. In the twentieth century, several sociological theorists have employed social science techniques to the study of religion and have found a universe rich in complexity. Emile Durkheim’s The Elementary Forms of Religious Life (1915) is credited with being the first sociological critique of religion. Durkheim believed the distinction between the sacred and the profane is at the heart of organized religion: “Sacred things always involve large concerns: the interests and welfare of an entire group of people, not just one or a few. Profane things, on the other hand, are little matters; they reflect the day-to-day business of each individual— the smaller, private activities and endeavors of the immediate family and personal life” (Pals, 1996, p. 99). Max Weber’s many contributions to the sociological study of religion expand upon Durkheim, particularly Weber’s analysis of the influence of Protestant theology on American society. Weber’s classic text, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism (1956) explores the myriad ways in which Protestant— essentially Calvinist—doctrine and culture saw labor as a form of spirituality. Weber correlated the faith traditions of Protestantism with an ethic of work and acquisition of material, eventually justifying wealth and materialistic consumption in an understanding of religious redemption. Weber’s analysis of themes emerging from religious philosophies points to the impact of the phenomena of religion on culture and value formation. Clifford Geertz lends a definitive anthropological perspective to recognizing the cultural dimension of the influence of religion. Geertz recognizes religion’s ability to transmit “patterns of meanings embodied in symbols… (by which humans) communicate, perpetuate, and develop their knowledge about and attitudes toward life” (1973, p. 89). It was Geertz who lent intellectual credibility to the “scientific” study of religion and his definition of religion as a system that “establishes powerful, pervasive and long-lasting moods and motivations” (p. 90) gives credence to religion’s motivational role in a particular culture or society. Geertz, however, did not sufficiently account for the organizational aspect of religion. In a pluralistic society like the United States, organizational affiliation often determines religion’s efficacy. Contemporary writers such as Bellah et. al, (1986), Greeley (1972, 1990), and Roof (1993) take up the mantle of the organizational component of religion by focusing on denominational effects. Tropman’s (1995) work on the denominational impact and the specialized perspectives Catholics bring to their

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work and their engagement in the world fortifies the notion of a religious consciousness which shapes the motivations of a group of adherents. “Religiously derived values thus influence both a religion’s practitioners and its former believers, those who may have left the faith but are still touched by its core values. It is in this sense that one can speak of “cultural Jews’ or “cultural Catholics” (Tropman, 1995, p. 20). While Freud’s comments about religion have often been cited with the same gravity as his theories concerning the unconscious and the libido, Freud interpreted religion with the full and complete bias of an atheist. That bias ascribes the evident neuroses of his patients with the rather severe Viennese Catholicism: “In his view, religious behavior always resembles mental illness; accordingly, the concepts most suited to explaining it are those that have been developed by psychoanalysis” (Pals, 1996, p. 67). Robert Coles (1986, 1990), whose pioneering work on the emotional and moral life of children connects psychoanalysis to religion for the contemporary generation in a way that Erikson (1958) initiated, politely undercuts Freudian thought on religion. Noting that much of Freud’s writings on religion are sociological, if not merely anecdotal, Coles highlights Freud’s “sweeping generalizations,” “quaintly unsupportable” conclusions and “naive and gratuitous reductionism” (1990, p. 1–2). Coles remarks that Freud was “speaking as a brilliantly argumentative essayist rather than as a clinician when he wrote The Future of an Illusion—hence his tendency in that work to favor provocative and unqualified generalizations, in contrast with his use in much of his clinical writing of instances…” (p. 20). It was a student of Freud’s, Carl Jung, who first recognized the Freudian bias and approached the study of religion with an appreciation of symbols and archetypes. Where Freud dismissed religion as yet another sexual neurosis, Jung understood religion as an aspect of the collective unconscious of humanity. “From Jung’s world view the religious undertaking and the religious objective are not only potentially meaningful, but necessary if man is to survive” (Kelsey, 1984, p. 186). Schwartz and Howard’s (1984) research on values as a source of motivation for altruism presents one of the clearest connections between prosocial behavior and moral values. They posit that moral values are an aspect of an individual’s motive structure—a sub-category of altruism—and it is in this locus of moral values that religion has the potential to make substantial impressions. Taking a cue from the stage theorists/moral development researchers (especially Piaget and Kohlberg), James Fowler (1986, 1990) links aspects of organized religion with the concept of faith which he describes as “a human universal [which] includes but is not limited to or identical with religion…a religion, as a cumulative tradition, is made up of the expressions of the faith of people in the past…gives forms and patterns for the shaping of the faith of present and future persons (1990, pp. 99–100). Unlike traditional sociologists of religion such as Geertz or Weber, Fowler suggests that a faith component is the essential dynamic in religious traditions, and differentiates faith from belief:

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“Since the Enlightenment of the eighteenth century many people have come to understand belief as intellec tual assent to propositions of dubious verifiability. But faith is deeper and involves unconscious motivations as well as those that we can make conscious in our belief and in our action.” (p. 100). Through a series of in-depth qualitative interviews over the past twenty-five years, Fowler and his research team at Emory University have posited a sevenstage process of “growth and transformation in faith.” Fowler’s theory locates an individual’s autobiographical journey in understanding their particular interpretation of religion and religious themes. Each stage might be best described as a “maturation in love,” progressing from the self-absorption of a child to a universalizing of love and justice at the highest stage. While there are several methodological concerns with Fowler’s schema (e.g. interviewer bias), his conceptualization of faith recognizes the power of faith and (indirectly) religion as a motivational source for altruism. Cohen (1978) suggests that religion helps to inspire a learned-altruistic behavior with the inculcation of empathy: “Empathy and sympathy as human qualities are not ubiquitously stressed outside the great religious traditions (e.g., Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism, Christianity and Islam)… They see it as a necessary part of the good life or as a requisite for salvation” (Cohen, 1978, p. 95). Fowler’s research touches upon both the conscious and unconscious dynamics in understanding faith, and while religious faith’s relationship to organized religion is by no means direct or assured, for those who articulate the importance of religious faith in their lives, it seems to be of major consequence. Robert Wuthnow remarks that: “One thing that seems clear from the available research on religion and altruism, however is that religion is more than a simple (or even complex) set of moral and ethical dictums. It is a richly symbolic language that embodies historical specificity, a high degree of intertext validity and frequent use of the narrative genre” (Wuthnow, 1990a, p. 10). AMERICAN RELIGIOUS PLURALISM American society is characterized by a wide diversity of organized religions and America continues to be one of the most religious countries in the world (Hodgkinson, 1990). The shaping of the American philanthropic culture owes a great deal to the myriad of religious traditions which inform the concept of philanthropy. As the two leading religious groupings in America, Judaism and Christianity each define what it means to be generous from their particular history and tradition. These conventions add elements that distinguish a particular group’s giving, compensate for unattended areas, and often overlap in essential formulations. Jewish and Christian notions of charity combine to enhance each other’s worldview and are foundational to the American system of philanthropy.

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Judaism and Justice Huston Smith, in his classic work, The Religions of Man, asserts that the Jewish prophets had two fundamental convictions which continue to bind the Jewish community to this very day: “the future of any people depends in large part on the justice of their social order and (that) individuals are responsible for the condition of their society as well as for the tidiness of their personal lives” (Smith, 1965, p. 272). The Jewish concept of a just social order constitutes an essential aspect of a Jewish “passion for meaning”—a passion which identifies God as acting within human history: “Meaning was always latent and the opportunity for creative response always at hand” (Smith, p. 261). Since God participates in Jewish history, Jews feel compelled to reciprocate Divine favor. The Jewish philanthropic tradition emphasizes justice for those within and outside of the Jewish community (Rimor and Tobin, 1990; Bakal, 1979). Mosaic law encouraged the practice of tithing, whereby a certain percentage of one’s wealth is given to those in need. “To Jews, giving was, and is, not even regarded as ‘charity’; rather, it is an obligation, one’s duty to one’s fellow man. For that matter, the Jews don’t even have a word for charity; the Hebrew word used for it is tzedakah, which actually means justice or righteousness” (Bakal, 1979, p. 21). As Tamari notes: “Acts of righteousness and charity have been interwoven into the very fabric of Jewish national consciousness ever since its inception. They remain characteristic of the Jews, both individually and collectively, until this very day” (Tamari, 1995, p. 156). Edward Queen connects the practical side of righteousness with the spirituality of the Jewish community: “Preeminent by its constancy and by its omnipresence was the weekly ritual of individual tzedakah as it related to Shabbat. A most visible element of this has been the pushka, the tzedakah box, that traditionally has held a significant place in Jewish homes. Its constant presence reminded one of the obligation of giving while the act of placing moneys in the box, linked with the entire process of preparing for the Jewish Sabbath, served to strengthen the link between one’s religious practice and the act of giving” (Queen, 1994, p. 23). The Jewish medieval theologian Rabbi Maimonides operationalized notions of justice by describing in the Mischna-Torah eight “degrees of charity,” the most important of which is to give a Jew who “had been crushed” a loan or a gift, or possible employment so that he/she would no longer dependent on the generosity of others (Silberg, 1990). The specific dictums of Maimonides exemplified the distinctions between motivations, culminating in a gift that would allow the individual to retain their dignity and self-respect. Jews refer to their Judaism as the primary reason for their charitable activity, and even among those Jews who did not consider themselves religious, they nonetheless traced their generosity back to Judaism (Odendahl, 1990).

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American Jewish Philanthropy Joseph Blau’s depiction of the social, cultural and historical milieu which Jews in the United States inhabit, suggests that a definition of Jewish identification must be focused more on the individual’s recognition of themselves as Jewish than a generic, all-encompassing standard. In his important work, Judaism in America, Blau asserts that Judaism defies a precise definition, for it “is a name for the many expressions of spiritual life of those men and women in any place and at any time who regard themselves as Jews” (Blau, 1976, p. 3). While a common set of tradition and symbols adhere Jews philosophically to each other, the Jewish experience is one of adaptation to foreign and often hostile cultures, with the result that Judaism necessarily became ritually and culturally diverse: “The history of Judaism is a glorious history of creative cultural synthesis” (Blau, 1976, p. 2). In addition to the theological importance of Jewish giving, the cultural impact of Jewish philanthropy within the United States sets a precedent for generosity. Although barely 3% of the US population, Jews are by far the most generous of all the major religions; this generosity extends both internationally (Israel in particular) as well as to non-Jewish causes. Most of the affiliated Jewish expenditures are to health care agencies and hospitals (Yankelovich, Skelley & White, 1986; Bakal, 1979). One of the hallmarks of the Jewish community is the network of agencies and groups that take care of the needs and interests of the Jewish organization. These networks of support stem from the manner in which Jews were ostracized in the early days of the Christian empire: “…their exclusion from communal relief efforts within the Christian world resulted in the fact that they alone had to meet the needs of the poor and weak within their community, a fact which, when linked with the religious mandate goes far toward explaining the elaborate institutional forms developed by Jewish philanthropy” (Queen, 1994, p. 7) Jewish generosity is marked by a motivation of ethnic survival: “… centuries of oppression…taught the Jews that if they were going to survive, they would have to depend on themselves—from everything from education and medical care to the barest necessities of life” (Bakal, 1979, p. 89). Coupled with the religious myths of the Hebrew Bible, the harrowing tales of the Holocaust and other programs of ethnic cleansing molded a consciousness and tradition of gratitude: “For Jews, sharing is a way of remembering and continually acknowledging what one has been—namely a slave in Egypt. (Smurl, 1991, p. 6). The “richly symbolic language” of Jewish existence and philosophies of giving are both written as well as oral: “…tales of resistance to tradition, eventual acceptance, and systematic attempts by older Jews to socialize the younger generation toward philanthropy are representative” (Odendahl, 1990, p. 148).

CONCEPTUALIZING PHILANTHROPIC MOTIVATION 27

Christianity and Charity The early Christian community was almost entirely Jewish and Christian traditions of charity draw directly from Jewish sources. One of the significant differences between Jewish and Christian traditions is that Christianity added the attribute of love to the concept of duty (Bakal, 1979). Jesus interpreted the entire Mosaic law as essentially one of love, encouraging his followers to “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” Through parables such as the Good Samaritan and the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus re-defined what it means to be a neighbor, giving the weak, the poor and the despised favor in God’s kingdom. “Jesus drew heavily on the traditional Jewish texts regarding charity and on the centrality of giving to others as the heart of religion” (Queen, 1994, p. 25–26). The story of the Widow’s mite, for example, where generosity and charity are mirrored within one’s heart as opposed to the size of the contribution, defines charity more as a spiritual engagement than a financial one. The love of neighbor characterized the early Christian community that organized church funds which were supported by gifts and dispensed by deacons to those in need (Marts, 1991). The early Christian church (in essence, the Roman Catholic church although that specific title would be used much more often after the Reformation), after the “Emperor Constantine for the first time permitted citizens to will money or property to the church, which soon became the primary recipient and dispenser of philanthropic funds” (Bakal, 1979, p. 137), then proceeded to establish charitable institutions. These orphanages, almshouses, guest houses for travelers and the first hospital, (established by St. Basil at Caesarea in 396 A.D.) were ways in which the Christian community responded to Gospel imperatives to “Do unto others as they would do unto you.” Hospitals, universities, monasteries and cathedrals were the major institutional undertakings of the Catholic Church in the medieval period. These edifices were constructed through the generosity of financial gifts and donated labor (Marts, 1991). The upheaval of the Reformation fundamentally changed how individuals understood their relationship with God. Papal corruption, as symbolized by the selling of indulgences, propelled Martin Luther to acquaint himself with the Bible and in so doing, conceived of humankind as justified by faith alone. Faith was not transmitted through an intermediary (the church) but was available to individuals through engagement with the Bible, endorsing a philosophy of the “truth-as-experienced-by-the-self.” (Tarnas, 1991). Following in Luther’s footsteps, John Calvin, through a doctrine of predestination, sanctified discipline, thrift, and hard work as an indication that one has been saved: “Material productivity was often the fruit of such effort, which, compounded by the Puritan demand for ascetic renunciation of selfish pleasure and frivolous spending, readily lent itself to the accumulation of capital” (Tarnas, 1991, pp. 245–6).

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The Puritan ethos found hospitable ground in the early days of colonial America, as those habits fortified the Puritans during their sojourn in the New England wilderness. American Christian Philanthropy. As mentioned in Chapter One, religions in America, particularly Christianity are defined by membership in a denomination, a voluntary association which in its larger expression is both an organization and a community (Carroll and Roof, 1993, pp. 13–14). Denominational affiliations served not only specific religious purposes, but social and cultural ones as well. Indeed, in the earlier part of the twentieth century, the term “Christianity” was often secondary to denominational identification, e.g. Baptist, Catholic, or Presbyterian (Herberg, 1955). Refugees from European religious persecution, the earliest non-indigenous Americans, were a diverse religious group. Calvinist minister John Winthrop preached a message of adherence to a religious code that included “we must not look only on our own things but also on the things of our brethren” (Bremner, 1988, p. 7). Winthrop’s sermon, “A Model for Christian Charity,” underscored the notion of concern for fellow neighbor in both material goods as well as spiritual needs. Cotton Mather, also a Puritan minister, noted for his founding of Yale University, penned an influential sermon entitled: “Bonifacius-Essays to Do Good.” Mather’s message is one of neighborliness and deep concern for the welfare of those “not well provided for.” Mather draws upon Christian theology in his discussions of compassion for fellows in need and specifically instructs his listeners to act upon these moral imperatives: getting involved with one’s neighbor is part and parcel of the religious nature of the New World (Mather, 1710, in O’Connell, 1983). Ralph Waldo Emerson, a leading American religious (transcendentalist) figure in the 19th century, believed that philanthropy was an agent of humane reform and acted as an antidote to the lack of faith and hope that he recognized in America (Emerson, 1841). “The Protestant’s God assured a sterner visage toward the poor than the Catholic deity, especially in John Calvin’s conception. Poverty became a sign of exclusion from the elect rather than an indication of the absence of worldliness; it did not take long to reach the conclusion that many poor people could be rightly blamed for their own poverty” (Gurin and Van Til, 1990, p. 5). The advent of the American industrial age in the 1870s brought with it a social Darwinist ideology, personified by wealthy “robber-baron” industrialists who were willing to re-cast society by establishing cultural and intellectual projects, often motivated by religious tenets. These captains of industry were fond of “scientific” philanthropy, with the belief that direct aid to individuals for alleviating poverty actually caused and furthered those conditions in which poverty could flourish (Bremner, 1988; Hall, 1992). Efficient redistribution of wealth must attack the causes of poverty—giving aid to individuals directly would be “indiscriminate.”

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Higher education was a favorite among advocates of this American breed of charitable assistance and in Carnegie’s list of “the best uses to which a millionaire can devote the surplus of which he should regard him-self as only the trustee” (Carnegie, 1900, p. 106) the founding of a university ranked first. Universities, as well as libraries, parks, museums and the like were “ladders upon which the aspiring can rise” (Carnegie, in Hall, 1992, p. 117). RELIGION AND THE FOUNDING OF AMERICAN HIGHER EDUCATION The first colonial settlers were intent on establishing both a “new” England as well as a new Israel, a biblical city set on a hill, a Christian light unto the nations (Tarnas, 1991). In order to accomplish this goal, the new republic needed to train young men for the Protestant clergy and philanthropic gifts to the first colleges reflected strong denominational imprints (Sears, 1990). The first colleges founded before the Revolutionary War were founded initially for theological purposes, and subsequently for professional and gentlemanly training (Lucas, 1994). While America’s first colleges had extraordinary financial needs, “a practical consequence of religious tolerance throughout the eighteenth century was a certain blurring between their ‘public’ and ‘private’ status. Puritan Harvard in its infancy was supported by the General Court through a combination of bank taxes and revenues generated by a toll on the ferry across the Charles River…” (Lucas, 1994, p. 107). It was also supported by the generosity of many individuals, collectively in terms of community and denomination support, as well as individual beneficence, predominantly through bequeathing of an estate. “While the colonial economy could not support philanthropy of the dimension that founded the colleges at Oxford and Cambridge, individual benevolence was nonetheless in the English tradition, and the colonial colleges therefore naturally looked to it for sustenance” (Rudolph, 1990, p. 178). With this reality of meager resources, the Massachusetts Bay Colony sent three ministers back to England for the sole purpose of fund raising to educate the “heathen Indian.” “New England’s First Fruits” detailed institutional needs and was the forerunner of the contemporary case statement, a common fund-raising document (Cutlip, 1990; Worth, 1993). While the initial success of the three ministers was somewhat dubious (only one returned to America, with 500 pounds; another was hung for criminal activity), the tradition of soliciting funds for higher education had come into existence. The religious revival known as the Great Awakening lent an urgency to the founding of still more higher-educational institutions. “The College of New Jersey was not the only higher school founded as a result of the ‘Great Awakening,’ a pan-Protestant arousal of enthusiastic religiosity that swept across the colonies in the mid-1700s. Imbued with the same evangelical fervor and missionary zeal that had seized liberal Presbyterians, New England

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Congregationalists were upset over the religious complacency into which they felt the colleges at Cambridge and New Haven had fallen. Their solution was to throw their support to the Reverend Eleazor Wheelock in the founding of a new college, called Dartmouth.” (Lucas, 1994, p. 106). The Rev. George Whitefield, a charismatic evangelist, extolled the value of giving to higher education as an outgrowth of religious sensibility and piety (Bremner, 1988). While young America was being “Awakened” to the pressing need of salvation, Whitefield awoke the generous to the pressing needs of higher education. In discussing philanthropy to Michigan colleges, Fugate (1997) points out that “Theistic influence (from New England) gave philanthropy in Michigan —and elsewhere—a largely religious bent. Then, as now, the deeply religious considered working hard, bettering oneself, and leading a clean and decent life to be ordained by God. In 1800s Michigan, we would likely have had that very thought: Self-improvement is God’s will; education is self-improvement; therefore, anything that contributes to education is divinely ordained. Small wonder, then, that so many of the first schools and colleges created in Michigan and elsewhere were of religious origin” (Fugate, 1997, Pp. 9–10). Much of the philanthropy to higher education for the first several hundred years in the United States came directly from specific Christian denominations with motivations that were an outgrowth of a religious tradition and sensibility. “But, although colonial life was poor, the tradition which supported the English colleges in England was not abandoned in the New World. It was necessarily supplemented by other means, but it was also encouraged by the vital sense of stewardship nurtured by the Christian denominations. From this concept of stewardship would flow many of the benefactions that sustained the American college…” (Rudolph, 1990, p. 178) An outstanding example of the way in which his religious upbringing inspired his generosity to higher education can be found in John Rockefeller. Ron Chernow, author of Titan: The Life of John D.Rockefeller, Sr. frames Rockefeller’s entire life by suggesting that Rockefeller’s evangelical Baptism “as the passkey that unlocks many mysteries of his life” (Chernow, 1998, p. xv) as Rockefeller believed that there was a “spiritual link” between making money and giving away money. Recalling how Rockefeller began tithing to the Baptist church by the time he was twenty years of age, “John D.Rockefeller’s mind was largely furnished with precepts and phrases from his Baptist fundamentalist church. Throughout his life, he extracted from Christianity practical lessons for living and emphasized the utility of religion as a guide in mundane affairs” (Chernow, 1998, p. 54). One very practical lesson young John was taught was putting money in the typical collection basket “As the family huddled together in a pew, Eliza (John’s mother) encouraged the children to drop pennies into the collection plate: Rockefeller later cited his mother’s altruism as the genesis of is philanthropy” (Chernow, p. 19). Rockefeller’s extensive philanthropy supported, among many projects, Spelman College and the University of Chicago.

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CONCLUSION Each of the approaches to altruism retains strengths and weaknesses in theoretical frameworks. The themes drawn from the field of social psychology offer an array of competing and contrasting views regarding altruism, especially if the approaches are recognized as mutually exclusive. As the search for a common definition of altruism was dependent upon the discipline of the researcher, so too are the themes which might be weighted to have more impact on an individual’s philanthropy. The central problem with traditional understandings of altruism is that they do not account for the concurrent external as well as internal motivations. The nature of the laboratory research employed in much of the research often restricts experiments to single instances, and much of the extant research used college students as the convenient sample, a population from which generalizations to a wider population cannot easily be made. Ultimately, the experiences, outlooks and frameworks of the individual philanthropists who are the subject of the research will provide the clearest conception of motivations for philanthropy, as they will inform the research of contextual understandings and layers of nuance. It is not illogical to suggest, however, that many of the socio-psychological themes just presented have helped to impact an individual’s capacity to be altruistic and may assist in framing the possibility of philanthropy. The study of religion as a distinct phenomenon gained respectability in the early part of the 20th century when social scientists began to apply their research skills to cultural settings, earmarking religious practices as the locus of their studies. Both Judaism and Christianity have similar yet differing philosophies that extol the importance of generosity to both family and friend. As the substantive religious framework in American society, these religious and social perspectives have influenced the formation of societal values. Religion as a distinct form of motivation is a new phenomenon, but more because of the bias against it in the empirical sciences rather than its role in human lives and society. Freudian commentary about religion works against any kind of scientific appreciation of the phenomenon. The philosophy of Carl Jung serves as an initial antidote to Freud, allowing for the possibility of religion as a source of good will in human relationships. Fowler’s developmental approach to religion suggests that altruistic behavior is essentially a form of a mature religious perspective, which locates a mature relationship with the transcendent as the basis for loving one’s neighbor. Religion’s ability to inculcate specific altruistic teachings makes it an important contributor to individual moral development. As an outgrowth of a religious community’s desire to train their ministers and educate the future leaders of their church and society, American higher education came into existence for specific religious purposes. Much of the philanthropy to the earliest American colleges reflects the nature of these hopes and dreams for American society and the denominational communities that gave these first

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institutions life. Some of the earliest philanthropic gifts to American higher education were motivated, in part, by religious inclinations, as the philanthropy of individuals like John Rockefeller makes clear. This chapter has focused on themes that have elucidated an understanding of altruism, of the sociology of religion and of the distinctive brand of American philanthropy, including a discussion of the religious roots of the first American colleges. Exploring the complex dimensions of motivations for philanthropy depends greatly on the themes uncovered in an individual’s life story. Behavioral themes may uncover which external approaches move one to become altruistic, and motivational approaches might tell of the intimate world of family, relationships, and consciousness of others. Religion adds yet another dimension to be explored, particularly as religion is understood as an interpersonal and cultural form of behavior. From the very beginning, philanthropy in America was framed by religious insights and philosophies. The diversity of and sheer number of religious adherents made for a society that valued religious themes and yet was fully independent of any central religious polity. As will be discussed in the next few chapters, organized religions often encourage generosity in very specific ways. The teachings and practices of these groups have created an environment in which individuals have the ability to understand their own generosity in light of religious tenets.

CHAPTER 3 The University as Recipient and Generator of Magnanimous Philanthropy

Believing as I do that American institutions are of more consequence than the wealth of power of the country; and believing that the preservation and development of these institutions have been, are, will continue to be under the leadership of the legal profession; and believing also that the future of America depends largely on that profession; and believing that the character of the law school determines the character of the legal profession; I wish to aid in enlarging the scope and improving the standards of the law schools by aiding the one from which I graduated, namely, the Law School of the University of Michigan. —From the will of William W.Cook, Law Class of 1885 INTRODUCTION As a way of commemorating the extraordinary generosity of a certain William Wilson Cook, a copper plaque bearing the above excerpt is enshrined in the north corridor of Hutchins Hall, the main academic building of the University of Michigan Law School in Ann Arbor. A graduate of the school, Mr. Cook’s philanthropy of more than $16,000,000 in 1930 set an unparalleled standard for generosity throughout American higher education. The language Mr. Cook utilized to describe his motivations implies many reasons for his philanthropy. In particular, the selection and repetition of the term “believing” suggests that some form of “belief” may have played a significant role in Mr. Cook’s perspective on his life and philanthropy. While the definition or role of “belief” and “believing” ultimately remains a mystery in understanding of Mr. Cook’s philanthropy, it is clear that Mr. Cook put his faith in the University of Michigan’s ability to carry out his vision of his philanthropy. This chapter presents the findings from the first set of questions posed in the interviews. These questions were organized to understand what it is about the university that compels people’s generosity and what institutional components

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assist in the motivations for philanthropy to a particular institution. This chapter consists of five main sections. The first section grapples with the University’s role in society. In many respects, this line of questioning is essentially philosophical in nature. The University of Michigan is simultaneously a public and elite institution in a society where elite educational institutions tend to be private. The interviews were an opportunity to understand how major donors describe the University’s niche in society, within the state of Michigan, and how institutional qualities may impact their motivation. The second section transitions from a philosophical arena to focus on those specific experiences at or with the University which factor into donor motivations for philanthropy to the University. Since many of those interviewed are graduates of the University of Michigan, their experiences at the University have the potential of eliciting a variety of emotions and evaluations that may impact their motivations for philanthropy. The third section deals with the institutionally created programs that encourage an individual’s philanthropy. While many advancement strategies serve as background music to the center stage’s drama of encouraging and inviting major donor philanthropy, (often imperceptible to the major donor), those that are cited in this section are those which the major donors found most amenable or disagreeable to their individual personalities and dispositions. Because of the strong interplay between advancement programs and institutional leadership, the qualities and attributes of these individuals play an influential role in the philanthropic gift-making process and receive specific mention. Section four narrows the scope of the advancement efforts by focusing on the particular role of the development officer. How their work affects the philanthropic process is highlighted by a brief case study. As a way of contextualizing the philanthropic motivations of the major donors, I interviewed all of the development officers who were assigned to these individuals. An analysis of these discussions forms the fifth and final section of this chapter. The University's Role in Society Since the vision of any institution navigates the manner in which it participates in society, how major donors interpret the University’s mission suggests an aspect of their motivations for philanthropy. Table 3–1 reflects, in a quantitative fashion, the incidence of topical mentions, recognizing that because of the exploratory nature of the interview, not all questions were necessarily asked of all interviewees.

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Table 3±1: Themes Related to the University's Role in Society Primary Theme

Number of Mentions

To be a center of excellence To educate society To teach values To educate people of the State of Michigan To add a practical dimension to life

6 5 3 3 1

The major themes presented in this section revolve naturally around the higher educational enterprise. The first theme presents comments concerning the issue of quality, which was particularly important as an aspect of many major donors’ philanthropy. The second theme of educating society reflects thoughts concerning the primary mission of the institution. This fairly generic theme gives way to the specific role of the University of Michigan as a public institution and the complexity of that definition. Finally, one donor had some interesting comments about the practical nature of higher education. The Significance of Institutional Quality One hallmark of the University has been the high quality of the University’s intellectual life that draws students and faculty from across the United States and globally. Because of its reputation and recruiting talents, the University is recognized both as a state and national institution. When Donor P was asked about motivations for philanthropy, his immediate response was: “Actually, I certainly admire the quality of the institution.” Donor Z: “And if they were to be ‘the’ university in Michigan and essentially in the Midwest, it’d be one of the best schools, it had to have that kind of funding.” For many, the University represents the uppermost virtues of its citizenry. Donor I: “I look at Michigan as being a role model for the state and the stands they take; I grieve when their basketball team is accused of (improprieties).” Donor Y discusses motivation in terms of an economic investment: I mean it’s not unlike investing in a lot of other things. Whether you invest in the market, you tend to invest in companies that have performed well and have a good outlook for the future. I think that’s the kind of thing that encourages economic investment in our so-called capital system. I think that the same model can be applied to institutions. That is, institutions that have done well in the past and have prospects of doing well in the future, are those that attract the capital. The giving. Proven excellence over many years assures major donors that their giving will have continual impact. In comparison to other non-profit organizations, higher

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education is a stable, well run enterprise. Donor N: “Well, it’s an institution that over a long period of time has done a lot of things well.” The continuing function of a non-profit was important to Donor R who commented: …as we look at [the] spectrum of charities that we gave to and that type of thing…the university, besides being a power in our lives, is one thing that’s gonna be there…(other non-profits) live hand-to-mouth, and you’re not sure in twenty years from now whether they’ll still be around. The University’s prominence in research generates immense pride. Donor S notes: Obviously I’m very pleased when I see it (Michigan) get a lot of publicity. They obviously make a big contribution. It’s important from many, many standpoints, including reinforcement of alumni loyalty to pick up different publications and have them quote the research of the University of Michigan. Donor J: “I think the University can accomplish a great deal through their research programs. I was so intrigued with the fascinating work they were undertaking in their labs and specialized centers. For example, the Medical School provides teaching and research situations that very few other institutions can.” Michigan’s research expertise convinces many major donors that their philanthropy would be an excellent investment. As Donor Y details: It’s one of the top ten leading research universities in the world. Michigan has distinguished itself for a whole host of research activities not to mention the fact it’s got an outstanding faculty, I mean, you only need to look at some of the extraordinary faculty members, like Paul McCracken who’s the former Chairman to the Council of Economic Advisors. For those donors who desired to focus their philanthropy on medical issues, the University’s research was a particularly attractive opportunity. Part of Donor Y’s gift was intended to find a cure for AIDS; for Donor J, the issue was cancer. As both are graduates of the University, these gifts combined several disparate aspects of motivation. Regarding his motives, Donor J remarked, “It was a combination that was just overwhelming.” On Educating Society As indicated above, the range of responses to the fairly generic question concerning the University’s role in society indicates the fascination and esteem of American higher education in the minds and hearts of those who vigorously support it. Not surprisingly then, all of the interviewees indicated remarkably high expectations of higher education in general and the University of Michigan in particular.

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For Donor F, the enterprise per se was worth supporting: “I’m generous to the University of Michigan because it falls into a category of education. Under education, it is my pleasure to donate and make contributions and set up grants and what have you, where I can help.” Whereas Donor T expressed his fundamental understandings of the University’s educational role as, “I think it’s to help people understand what is and to dream about what could be,” Donor D very specifically suggests that “The University’s role in society should be to stimulate thought, conversation, study, analysis, all manner of notions, all manner of ideas, all manner of life, bar none.” The generational transmission of education was interwoven with expectations of how the University was to operate within society. Donor L stated, “I guess the University’s role is no different than any other major university’s role, and that is to educate each succeeding generation as best they can.” Donor S framed those societal and intellectual possibilities for Michigan and for other institutions by suggesting a Horatio Alger-esque model, “the University’s role in society (and it’s not unique to Michigan) is in the advancement of society, hopefully enabling people to rise to high fame in their profession because of Michigan, who might not have been able (to do so otherwise)”. Donor N concurred with Donor S and links educational quality with diversity: …the role of the university is to prepare people to participate meaningfully in society, and I think the first role, the primary role, is probably that of providing quality and diverse education. But providing that education in the framework where the social skills are also enhanced. But how to participate in society? Donor G believes that the answer lies in the complete enterprise: “Higher education done correctly provides people with outlets for their energies in a wide variety of positive directions. It’s certainly not a 100 percent thing, but it is a high percentage…” For three of the interviewees, the formation of values, as a central aspect of the educational experience, is critical. Donor Y eloquently elaborates: What will distinguish us as a free society to survive and to have a strong economy, have a strong governance system, starts with values. And it starts with the values of the individual, and schools and colleges help to instill those values. You teach the value of the human spirit, that we are all equal. Irrespective of race, religion, sexual orientation, heritage, we’re all equal. Donor Q believes in the possibility of higher education serving as a unifying agent in a pluralistic world, while hinting that without such pluralism or diversity American society can become fractious:

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Certainly education is a critical factor in a peaceful society, and it’s potentially the one unifying factor that we have going for us with all the demographic changes in the world, and in the US. We’re (white, AngloSaxon Protestant) going to be a minority soon …And if we don’t have some common set of values that come out of our education system, I don’t know how we’re gonna manage that. Similar to this notion of higher education as a socially binding agent was the response of Donor G who opined: I don’t want to overstate the case, but it seems to me that a comprehensive higher education system would go a long way toward solving the inequities in society. You know, it’s pretty broad, but …I think higher education decreases (never eliminates) prejudice. Donor S cites experiences at Michigan that helped frame a similar perspective of a University experience as decreasing prejudice: I think Michigan…has a history of minority (acceptance) and even the Jewish component are real important. At Michigan there just was a great acceptance in (terms of) religion, or race, or whatever. It’s a very democratic place. Higher education’s particular role in society depends upon a variety of factors, including an institution’s history, sources of funding and charter affiliations with state and federal authorities. As a publicly assisted institution in the State of Michigan, the University of Michigan receives considerable state financial support. Along with Wayne State University and Michigan State University, the University of Michigan also enjoys constitutional autonomy quite dissimilar to most other institutions of higher education. When asked about distinctions between public and private higher education, Donor Y remarks: “The difference certainly is that in a public institution like Michigan you have to branch out and serve the citizenry of Michigan.” Donor B concurs: “…the public university, I think, has a commitment, the greatest commitment to society at large (greater) than a private university…” Donor O agrees and adds the element of institutional excellence: Certainly any university (that) is a state institution has to concentrate on providing benefits to the State of Michigan, and, since it’s an educational institution, it has to make quality education available to anyone who attends there. Donor R remarks that “Michigan is a national school; it’s really a unique public university in so many ways…” Donor L comments on institutional excellence

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and longevity: “I think the University of Michigan is unique in their success in the quality of education that they’ve been able to dispense over these past number of years, many years as a matter of fact.” Donor G agrees: “I think U of M, because of its unique position among universities worldwide, can be a driving force.” Donor K envisions a similar role: “…It seems to me that the University has a crucial role nationwide to be a very important, very high quality…very demanding educational institution.” The blending of academic excellence and the public aspect of the University, understood synonymously with egalitarianism, remains crucial to Donor K: “I think that the University has a particular role because it is a “public institution,” and as a result it tends to, I think, draw much more on a group of people who truly are merit based.” Donor Y also noted, “It’s an outstanding university and when you look at the universities within…the public universities, the three that have always come to the top are Berkeley, Michigan, and Virginia, and not necessarily in that order.” One cannot overlook the university’s impact on the local community. Ann Arbor is a thriving community, due in no small part to the University’s presence. Donor H is grateful for the University’s presence, particularly in intellectual matters. “I guess because I live in Ann Arbor I also feel some indebtedness to the University, because I think they have enriched my life here. The appeal really is the intellectual level, the faculty and students I’m in contact with…” A Composite EducationÐExperiences of Undergraduate Life In Pascarella and Terenzini’s work, How College Affects Students (1991) they present evidence of the potential impact of the undergraduate experience in terms of maturity, independence, judgment and self-knowledge. For the major donors interviewed for this research, that singular experience was, across the board, wonderfully positive. From one’s first love to a love of learning, the undergraduate years demarcate the transition from youth to maturity. Table 3–2 recaps the essential themes that emerged during the interviews as related to the educational experience: Table 3±2: Themes Related to Educational Experience Primary Theme

Number of Mentions

Outstanding academic experience Participation in extracurricular activities Faculty as mentors Knowledge gained from extracurricular experiences

9 7 5 5

The two major themes in this section encompass an educational experience with the specialized linguistics of the academy: curricular and extracurricular.

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After opening remarks about the experience, issues dealing with the curricular— essentially classroom and intellectual experiences—and extra-curricular— experiences outside of the classroom—are presented. The issue of diversity is also highlighted. This section closes with quotes concerning scholarships and financial aid and the important role this aid plays in major donor appreciation. Donor J’s reflection of the undergraduate years exemplifies the mark which an institution such as Michigan imprints on its students: It was a dream come true. I can remember sitting in the stands as a freshman and saying not only am I sitting here, following and watching this team that I’d followed ever since I can remember, but it’s my school. I can remember that sensation. That was great. It was a good education. I enjoyed the experience tremendously, and I came away with the same feeling that I think most Michigan graduates have, and it’s a very unusual feeling. Donor C enjoyed the exposure to the intellectual life and surmises that perhaps the reason why the educational enterprise retains much significance rests in the reality that It’s the only time of their life they’ve been really exposed to diversity of thinking of all kinds…(when you are busy with a career) there’s not a chance to cultivate yourself so, if you’re not really exposed to a lot at the university, you probably won’t be later on. For Donor N, the experience at Michigan interwove the intellectual and social in a way that prepared him to lead a rewarding and productive life. While hinting at some of his motivations for giving, Donor N recalls …The University of Michigan had an enormous influence on shaping my life and giving me not only a good education, but giving me a social foundation, indeed an approach to the world that was exceptional and I’ve never forgotten that. The same holds true for many of the major donors, like Donor D, whose comment that “the University did so much for me” was the outcome of an extraordinary undergraduate experience. Curricular Experiences Students’ relationships with faculty are often the source of immense satisfaction. As Parker Palmer explicates in To Know as We are Known (1993), a genuine teacher invites students into a trusting relationship. Donor S’s commentary seems to fit Palmer’s hope for all students:

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What did it do for me? Well, I think it helped me to grow tremendously as a person, and the opportunity it gave me and activities to test my ability, to lead, and to handle things. Also the excellence. You know, you’ll al ways have certain standouts in education and certain courses and certain professors that you feel make a real contribution to your life. For Donor K, explicit professorial intervening dramatically altered the Donor’s life. For this intervention the Donor feels an abiding sense of gratitude: I then had an opportunity to go to France that, if I were to say it changed my life more than anything, it would certainly be the year I spent in France. If I were to look back and try to analyze why I ended up in France, it was in some respects serendipitous. It was a reflection of a professor who encouraged me to do this and provided me some contacts and some thoughts about what I ought to do. Faculty mentorship was highlighted as a precious gift. For Donor Y, the President of the University served in this capacity: “I was very close, as it turned out, to (XXX) who’s been President of the University. And he wound up being a mentor to me…” The same holds true for Donor L who recalled several faculty who acted as role models: The Dean of the Dental School, Dean (XX) and Dr. (XX) became very good friends while I was in dental school. So those people I admired and looked up to, and they were very, very good to me while I was in school and I guess out of appreciation for that, part of my motivation (is) to give something back to the school. Donor C participated in an optional program that linked interested students with willing faculty member in a mentorship-like capacity. Approximately forty years later, at a reception for one of those faculty members, Donor C remarked to the assembled crowd about the impact of that singular experience: “What makes him great is NOT that just he’s a prominent philosopher, his particular theories. What made him great was because he taught us to think. To question.” And he (professor) turned to me (donor) at the meeting and said “All of my life I have waited to hear someone say that.” The research by educational psychologists of the impact of the undergraduate years on an individual’s cognitive, moral, and interpersonal growth reveals that the academic portion of the experience is only one part of the composite picture. While the intellectual challenges were clearly important to the vast majority of the interviewees, what was striking was the number of times extra-curricular

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experiences were mentioned as being transformative. Donor G exemplifies such thoughts: I learned a great deal there and I was able to practice probably as much in the nonacademic as the academic area, athletics, student government, involved in a fraternity, involved in campus life, it was probably as much in learning experience. Donor N articulates the effect of both the curricular and extracurricular: So it’s not enough to say that one goes to school for an education. One goes to school to learn how to cope in the world. Part of that is intellectual, but an important part of that is social. Because knowledge…doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Knowledge exists in society. Knowledge exists in community, and we better learn those skills along the way. Adds Donor T: And (we) had great experiences there that were very meaningful to us, and continue to be both in terms of the educational aspects, the noneducational aspects and campus life in terms of the student activities, and the general programs on campus and the friendships that we made there. The University, it’s interesting, the educational part, the academic part is important, but not the total aspect of what you learn at Michigan. At a comprehensive university like Michigan, unexpected opportunities often develop. The accidental experience of radio in the early days, allowed Donor D to embark on an extraordinary career: I walked (almost by mistake) into something called Morris Hall, which was a little stucco building on State Street, and one-story which was the headquarters, we didn’t have any radio station then, in Ann Arbor, but it was the radio set-up run by Professor (XX). It took me no time to determine that that’s what I wanted to do. For Donor Q, it was a world transformed, including marriage: (Spouse and I) met in Student Government, so we were both active. I mean, I did a lot of student activities from…so right from the beginning, I really felt I feasted at Ann Arbor, so you know, how could you not love it? A large university setting also demands a level of independence that Donor T appreciated:

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One of the things I think Michigan helps with is personal responsibility. It’s a broad enough campus in experience that, you have access to a lot of diverse activities. And the social fabric is extremely high, the selfgovernance aspect and discipline is extremely important, in that particular environment. So those were very meaningful to us and we thought well, here’s something that helped us, let’s see if we can turn around and help make that happen. The extra-curricular experience of the Marching Band was paramount for Donor M. The leadership opportunity for students in the band, coupled with minimal University funding, as well as the ability to impact a small group of students outside the classroom, was a philanthropic opportunity that was available in no other form at the University. Finally, Donor N found that living in a fraternity had very special rewards: At least at that time in my life (fraternity living) was a real asset. We lived like gentlemen; we lived in community with one another. We got along. Again, a lot of different backgrounds. A lot of different interests, but that was good for me, and then just the educational process which exposes you to the whole panorama of thought that is taking place over the years. It’s mind-stretching and it was for me, and I really enjoyed my education. As a public university, Michigan has long had a tradition of diversity. During the calendar year in which the interviews were held, the University received substantial media coverage for its policy that race should be allowed as a factor in determining admission to the University. Historically, the issue of diversity was initially framed as religious, then the focus became geographic. Before long diversity became bound up with issues relating to co-educational learning and contemporary discussions centered around race. Several of those interviewed expressed the view that diversity is critical for intellectual growth and social maturation. Donor Q discussed her experience of racial diversity: “It was the first time in my experience that I had gotten to know black students well, for example, and international students.” For Donor N, the experience of ethnic diversity allowed for much insight: I came from a very sheltered community and I can remember (this sounds so naive now), I can remember a discussion in which there was talk about Jews and Gentiles and people were pointing out (I’m sure they were Jewish) how many great Jews there were in American life. Hank Greenburg who was the star of the Detroit Tigers at that time…it never had dawned on me that Hank was Jewish. It just never…Benny Goodman, one of the great jazz clarinetists, I mean, I had never dreamed that Benny Goodman, then all of a sudden…my eyes were opened.

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But several donors objected to the University’s position. One major donor was very pointed in his feelings about the admissions policy: I would hope that the University would open their doors and give the same opportunity to my children and to (my) grandchildren, that I had. And I’m concerned that that doesn’t exist anymore. You know, I’m a white male Anglo-Saxon, I’m not sure I could get into the University of Michigan today. I’m not sure my kids could and that bothers me. And it seems to me I got in on merit, and it seems to me that that ought to be the qualification. This rather strident position was sufficiently tempered by the donor, who went on to explain that in his philanthropy “I like to open doors for people. I don’t like to push them through.” Opportunities should be available for all, regardless of race, but he interpreted the admissions practice as “pushing them through.” Another donor, who was also concerned about the admissions policy, discussed how his company had set up minority scholarships and believed that a sound policy would reflect a similar strat egy: “Give people an opportunity, (but) you don’t disadvantage somebody else.” The Impact of Scholarships. Scholarships were cited often as a tangible reason for the sense of “payback” that many major donors felt for the University. In the Depression and difficult War years, scholarships literally meant attendance or non-attendance at a college, particularly one as well regarded as Michigan. Donor W’s commentary reflects gratitude for a scholarship and financial aid received long ago: “Michigan was very good to me, the loans, the student loan funds and the different scholarships at Michigan, you know, were important. One of the first things I did with Michigan was to set up a scholarship fund.” A regional alumni scholarship allowed Donor R to attend Michigan: There were several people from my high school who had gone to Michigan, and he ended up getting me $200 a year, small—that was big. That was like half tuition, so I got this scholarship from this fund. And that was the difference in enabling me to get there. The dollars aren’t important, but the concept and the relativity is very important and without that I couldn’t have done it. So, that started me off on the right foot. Donor T’s scholarship to Harvard also meant attendance for graduate school: “When I went to Harvard, I had a full-boat scholarship for two years and that was $3,500 but I couldn’t have gone to school without it. Well, those numbers now have zeros added to them in terms of graduate activities.” Wanting others to have similar opportunities, Donor T endowed a scholarship at Michigan: And so when students are coming out of college in debt, particularly in the long post-graduate programs, I figured that could be a discouragement to

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many talented people that could be very productive, and so I said let’s turn this around. Donor F has set up special accounts to assist students when their own funds start to run low: “So at Wayne State University and U of M—Dear-born, I have two funds for students that walk in and borrow from the Chancellor’s fund and the Dean’s fund, just by asking for moneys they need to come to school.” Donor J puts it simply and profoundly: “The scholarship…just allowed me possibilities.” How Universities Encourage Giving: Advancement Programs Influencing Philanthropy In The Uses of the University (1982), historian Clark Kerr describes the functioning of a contemporary university as a “multi-versity” replete with an infinite variety of programs involved in academic and administrative pursuits. An institutional advancement function supplies the University with a methodological approach to increasing elite participation and gift giving. In this section, I have culled out the most interesting comments that surrounded the relevant aspects of the advancement function. Table 3–3 shows the number of mentions each topic received. Table 3±3: Themes Related to Advancement Activities Primary Theme

Number of Mentions

Volunteering impacts my giving Executive committee involvement is enjoyable Meeting philanthropic recipients means a great deal Reports on how money is used are important Leadership of institution is critical I have a habit of giving to Michigan

6 5 4 3 3 3

I open this section by framing philanthropy at the University of Michigan as a tradition in which the entire university community directly participates. Volunteerism enables this tradition to flourish and the theme of elite involvement discusses a particular kind of volunteer engagement. Commentary concerning stewardship follows and then moves to the topic of institutional leadership. Discussion of the habit of giving and how an institution embodies that habit is the last theme.

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Inheriting a Philanthropic Tradition Participation in inter-generational generosity served as role models for the tradition of philanthropy at the University of Michigan. For Donor N, this tradition was an important element in his own motivations: I must say when I came to Michigan, as part of the orientation process, when they (those who were in charge of the orientation) pointed out the fact that Michigan amongst all state universities was among the most fortunate in terms of gifts over the years…the law school, Hill Auditorium, in which we were having our sessions, the Rackham Graduate School, all individual gifts to a state-assisted university, that made an impression on me, I mean I never forgot that… Institutional traditions of philanthropy impact everyone, regardless of whether one receives financial assistance, as Donor S remarks: And lets face it, from whenever it was, 1817, til I got to Michigan…a lot of people had put in a lot of dollars and a lot of work to make it be there … I don’t care if you’re a scholarship student or not, a lot of people put a lot in to make it happen for you. Volunteerism and Executive Committees One of the principle attributes of outstanding advancement programs is the strategic and professional engagement of volunteers. Volunteers add a noninstitutional voice, enthusiasm, particular skills, social and professional connections as well as the financial resources to support the institution. Donor P was so heavily involved as a volunteer that he handed me a list several pages long and remarked: So, anyway, I’ll give you my list here of things I’ve gotten involved with, at Michigan. The main thing is, I became active in University affairs, because of being close with (former university presidents), and also (deans of school). Involvement on executive committees (e.g., visiting committees, board or visitors) was cited frequently as an enjoyable and valuable way of participating in the life of the institution. As a vehicle which makes the best use of elite leadership, executive committees combine involvement with the leadership of the University (or sub-units, such as professional schools), time spent with other executives and decision making at the highest level. As a result of such involvement, individuals gain a thorough understanding of the strengths and

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weaknesses of the institution, with the subsequent creation of a superb environment for eliciting major gifts. Donor A recognized the potency of executive committees and relates his involvement with his gift: It is important to mention why I think the school was so successful in this campaign. That (Dean’s name) became Dean, (and I believe I’m correct in saying that at that point he inherited the development committee and the visiting committee and thereafter), he created at least four, and possibly five organizations that involve graduates or friends of the school. A very important correlation (between executive committee involvement and their major gifts). In recounting similar involvement on an executive committee, Donor P remarks: Well, when you get close to something, you realize how important things that they’re doing, then you realize their needs. You realize their need and then you begin to help. Donor H remarks that the most effective level of involvement extends beyond financial support: “I’ve supported other activities (schools and institutes) but these are the activities that I’m personally more involved in be yond getting funds.” Donor Z added that the decision to make a major contribution often depends on the equation of time plus personal interest equals giving: “We also tend to give where we give our time. It isn’t that we don’t give to other things, but we do give to where we give our time and we tend to like to give time to education.” Major Donor Involvement Individuals capable of making million dollar contributions are invariably extremely successful in their respective professions. Major donors also have an expectation of strategic involvement. “Hands-on” involvement was critical for Donor G. The University labored closely with him to establish a remarkable program at one of the professional schools. A fundamental reason for this was the nature of the involvement: I was given the opportunity to participate, in a very detailed way. I wasn’t interested in just giving my money and then just fading into the background. So, I participated in the program, development and curriculum, and fund-raising, to solidify the endowments for the program. Involvement with the students, teaching, making presentations. Rather detailed and involved. Totally hands on. Which is my style.

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The example Donor S illustrates is one where the institution was able to capture the goodwill of a volunteer experience that led to a major gift: “I think the important thing that they also did, they got me involved. Unquestionably that was the great thing to do, and I’m glad they did it (asked for a significant gift).” For Donor H, the reality that the University needs the kind of support that he/ she can supply is critical: I think a lot is probably not as abstract as it sounds in the sense of it is a function of the individual. I have to be contacted; this could be (by) the Dean or whatever in a school, etc. And there are some entities I am less inclined to give to because I don’t feel that they have a need; need and how the funds are used is important. In questioning why a Major Donor gives his largest gifts to the University as opposed to the Church the donor attends, Donor M comments on need as well: “I could never identify the needs (at church) as well as I thought I could at the university.” Stewardship. One aspect of the advancement process that was critical for Donor H—and one which is often overlooked—was the stewardship process, the reporting to the donor on “how the funds are used.” I don’t really support activities that are (on) the national scope where I don’t know what in the hell happens to the money. With the scholarship that I fund, I meet the students, I know where the money goes. When I support research (it could be the medical school, or if could be somewhere else), I know who handles it, and what gets done. I know who the recipients are…it’s very important to me. Meeting the scholarship recipients is often a wonderful opportunity for donors to get an in-person view of the impact of their generosity. Says Donor D, The kind of minds and talents and professionals that (the director) attracts to seminars there and just to shoot the breeze and have dinner and so forth, and to be a part of that…I cannot tell you how satisfied that has become. There’s a real sense of a paying back Michigan for the immense gift that Michigan has given me. Donor P remarked that: “As far as the University of Michigan is concerned, I want to help that much more because they do appreciate even the smallest of gifts.” Donor A’s involvement on an executive committee epitomizes the best of these kinds of programs: A challenging and fulfilling kind of experience in working with the school, and the enormous pleasure of saying how well they’ve done, that’s one

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element of the why. The second element of the why is when you finally get to the point where you have the flexibility to begin to think, well, what can I do? The involvement was there, the time and the interest and the currency —the frequency of interaction. So when we had the capacity to think about doing something, we were in a position to do (make a significant gift) then some of this (giving) became circumstantial. The equation works in reversal as well, as exemplified by Donor D who became involved with the University after the donor had made a major gift: “I funded the XXX fellowship for the (specific program) and then I got involved. I was fascinated because here mid-career (professionals) had the opportunity to go to Ann Arbor for a year. They’d go there in September, and leave in June, taking any course in any school across the University.” Institutional Leadership Leadership is both an institutional and a personnel issue. Expectations for outstanding performance in these categories were more often unstated, but nonetheless evident. Donor A gave an example of the need for institutional leadership: …each of the links of the chain (need) to be strong, so if you’re thinking in terms of the University’s total offering, the (academic unit) needs to be an important part of that offering and very world class. For Donor L, history and longevity of excellence were important consid- erations for deciding on Michigan for generosity: I think that the people who are charged with the responsibility of considering the University for the next 100 years as it has existed the past 100 years, probably will do a good job, compatible with what society is at the time. And for Donor T: “Really when (the Dean of School) came about 20 years ago, I guess it was, I liked him and liked what he was doing, and so we started participating on this advisory committee.” Donor W hints that the leadership of the institution is not always as outstanding as one would expect and poor institutional leadership can impact philanthropy: So, in fact, I’ve always had some very strong feelings for Michigan. Obviously these feelings change in degree from you know, sometimes extremely strong, sometimes extremely not as strong. You may find certain

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times that there are people who are running the school whom you don’t have much regard for, and that will impact your feelings for the school. Establishing a Habit The “habit” of giving was mentioned frequently, as seen in the comment by Donor P: “I don’t know, I just get so proud of the institution that you just want to do things. Actually, it’s really a matter of habit.” In fact, the habit of giving, as established through the Annual Fund was indirectly referred to several times: Donor P: That a person could get in the habit of giving, even if they don’t give very much initially, to get in the habit, it builds…I don’t’ think it’s usual for a person to come up and give you an extremely large gift if that’s their first gift. Donor R understands the major gift as an extension of the regular patterns of giving: “And I think I gave something from about the first year after I got out of school, but it was like $25 or you know, whatever it was. We had given money every year forever, and as life went on you know, we gave a little more and since have stepped it up a few times.” Donor W correlates his annual gifts with his strong, positive emotion toward the University: Well, I started paying back, you know, right after I got out of school I started making small contributions. My first contributions may have been sending checks for $25 or something like that, but as soon as I was able to do something, or participate, or belong to the Alumni Club or things like that, I’ve always had basically very strong feelings towards Michigan. The University of Michigan also reaped the benefits of strong advancement programs at other institutions, as Donor E revealed: “I started giving money to Harvard right out of school when I really didn’t have a lot of money…” The Development Officer as Professional The field of institutional advancement, as mentioned in Chapter Two, can best be described as a semi-profession or an “emerging profession” (Brittingham and Pezzullo, 1990; Worth and Asp, 1994). An example of this “professionalization” is the level of expertise now required for major gifts officers, particularly at prestigious institutions like Michigan. These officers are usually assigned a group of “prospects” with whom the officer will work to bring about significant philanthropy to the institution. In this section, commentary is highlighted which supports the notion of advancement expertise, as well as areas where the advancement effort was less

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than admirable. Also highlighted is a brief case study of a donor whose emotional engagement was strengthened by the outstanding work of a major gifts officer. Donor J’s remark lends credence to the notion of Institutional Advancement as a professional endeavor: “I’ve tried to be generous with certain organizations, but it was their rules or they weren’t interested, and it was an organization. It wasn’t a human being.” Table 3–4 depicts the major themes associated with the major donors’ experiences with the major gifts officers. Table 3±4: Themes Associated with Major Gifts Officers Primary Theme

Number of M Mentions

Enjoyed relationship with major gifts officers Major gifts officer played an important role in securing the gift Major gifts officer initiated the relationship Pleased with how the office handled the gift process Displeased/lack of professionalism of office/officer

8 5 5 5 3

Million dollar gifts (generally speaking) rarely come unsolicited. The first theme presented, then, discusses engagement with university personnel and then moves to a very specific discussion of how a major gifts officer built a relationship that brought about significant giving. Finally, some of the problematic aspects to fundraising are briefly noted. Creating Philanthropists One indicator of an effective advancement operation is productivity. Prior research clearly indicates that a major reason for individuals not contributing is the response that “they haven’t been asked.” Donor H mentioned this when he remarked: “A lot of this is probably not as abstract as it sounds in the sense that it’s a function of the interaction that someone need to contact me.” Donor O’s recollection of a major gifts officer initiating the personal contact between the University and the donor supports the notion that without such personal engagement, the gift might not have been forthcoming: I don’t think I would have gone back to the University of Michigan and said ‘hey, I really feel that I got value from having attended here and so I want to put something back into it.’ Frankly, now that I think about it, I don’t know what would have happened had, a (person) by the name of (Development Officer) who was in their development area had not come out here. I don’t think that idea would have taken shape, and somebody else eventually would have gotten that money.

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Development expertise often leads to greatly increased gifts, as Donor Q reflects: …But we were sort of guided into that too. I mean, we talked about our interests and we sort of (laugh) fell into making a gift of that magnitude. I mean, we certainly never started out and said okay, we’re gonna put this money into…we wanted to make a gift to the university and we talked about what we could do and if we did this and we did this and because in (name of city) a number of people have made that commitment to send students to college. Creating philanthropists is also a by-product of a professional office and engagement of the donor with the institution. The manner in which Donor J was handled increased the likelihood of the donor making the gift: “from the very beginning, the people assigned to me understood me, handled me perfectly.” The advancement team raised the level of expectation for Donor G who recalled: Kept driving home, you know, coming in, and really the commitment was far beyond anything I’d ever thought of. Good five times more. But it was this combination of the university, my interests, their response, and their involvement in the solicitation process. Donor S’s giving experience exemplifies how making a major gift can impact the donor. Donor S wrote to the Dean to say thank you for asking for such a large gift: I wrote (name of Dean) a letter and thanked him for his good fundraising because he helped me do it, and feel good about it. I thanked him for soliciting me so well. I don’t feel victimized, I feel great about it…. The Care and Feeding of a Major Donor The case of Donor C serves as an excellent example of the skills employed in the process of raising major gifts. Donor C had been a long time fund-raiser and benefactor for a major metropolitan Jewish federation, donating an extraordinary amount of time and proportional net worth. Thinking that Donor C might be someone to visit with, a senior development officer made a cultivation call and developed a level of involvement which ultimately resulted in Donor C’s extraordinary generosity to the University. The following briefly recounts that story: Donor C began by describing the senior development officer as “very sophisticated” in fund-raising: “she’s one of the top fund-raisers on campus in my opinion,” and elaborated: “and the question is, why is she terrific? I mean, it’s not an accident. She kept meticulous notes. She said ‘I’m not coming to ask

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you for money now. I’m coming to ask your advice’ and she was very pleasant, offering compliments freely. ‘You’re not aware of it, (she said) you probably did more for us than almost anyone in New York. In the next hour you made at least 15 phone calls for us and made other appointments for us, introduced us to people’” By means of involvement, and professional courtesy, this development officer helped to kindle: “a powerful rebirth of my Michigan feeling which made me suddenly catapult this from, gee, I’d like to help my University which I care for, to a much deeper level almost that moved me to tears.” Knowing that the major donor had recently named two professors in his will, the development officer had one of those professors autograph one of the professor’s books, as a way of saying thank you. The emotional impact for Donor C was profound as the Donor continues: “then she not only gets the book, wraps it beautifully, puts it in a beautiful little bag and at lunch says to me I have something, a gift for you.” Inscribed in the book is the message from the professor: I want to thank you very much for writing me that nice letter some months ago. It set me up for some time afterward. Being old and retired and just recovering from by-pass surgery I needed a lift. Now I’m even more happy to hear what you are doing for the development and (other professor) and I feel very honored and hope this book and note will do something to show my appreciation. With thanks and best wishes. Sincerely, (Professor) 3/17/ 89. For Donor C this particular act of stewardship was professionally brilliant and it positively impacted his relationship to Michigan. But Donor C also cautioned that such individual attention was absolutely requisite for (his) continued donations. In fact, the donor essentially curtailed relationships with other organizations because of inattention and de-personalization of the advancement effort. The one thing (Michigan) can’t afford to do, don’t make the mistakes I’ve seen in other organizations, as soon as you lose that personal touch, you’re gonna lose a lot of money. That’s crucial. People don’t give to just an abstraction. People give to people. While the vast majority of the major donors were pleased with the quality of the individuals with whom they worked, there were several instances where either an individual or an office did not live up to expectations. Donor C, profiled above, recalls a series of events that almost curtailed his giving to Michigan: Around 19xx or something, no one ever told me I’m off the visiting committee… I suddenly don’t get an invitation. I had to call and was told you’re no longer on the visiting committee. Well, gee, wouldn’t you write

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me a letter or something? I sent my first big check which was I think was $50,000 and someone misplaced the check so I didn’t even get interest on it for about a month even though I called in advance to be sure someone would be there and deposit it. By sheer carelessness it was treated very carelessly, and there were like five things like that and I wrote them a letter saying that I think that your fund raising is second rate and someone better look into this. I was really sort of pissed off at the attitude. While Donor R’s problems are not as many as Donor C’s, Donor R points to a lack of expertise on the part of some officers: I can’t resist saying that the university’s development staff’s lack of financial sophistication led to sort of a straight cash kind of gift, cause they could understand anything complicated. I had some other schemes but these were beyond them. The Internal Perspective: Major Gifts Officer Interviews Yin (1989) suggests that one characteristic of good qualitative case study research is the depth of the information gathered. With this suggestion in mind, I interviewed those major gifts officers assigned to the sample of major donors who would eventually be interviewed for the research study. Since major gifts officers work closely with major donors to ensure that the relationship between the donor and institution remains vibrant, development officers naturally become familiar with the major donors and are able to recognize motivations for philanthropy and other details that would not necessarily surface during a one-time, research interview. Before I began interviewing the research sample, I interviewed the nine respective major gifts officers. The questions that I asked the major gift officers mirrored the two primary research questions: “Do you have a sense of their motivations for philanthropy?” and “Do you have any indications about the role of religion in their lives?” I found these interviews to be extremely beneficial for theoretical reasons, as the major gift officers voiced sensitive areas that I needed to be aware of, and a general description of the individual personalities, which was helpful in establishing rapport. Practically, I was given suggestions on how best to maneuver my way through the various gatekeepers, an inherent problem in elite interviewing. The following represents the major themes that surfaced during the in terviews with the major gifts officers, as well as some general observations General Observations On the whole, the relationships between the donor and the University’s representatives were extremely positive.

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Development officers certainly knew the major donors well and there was much mutual respect and collegiality between the two; • Development officers naturally focused on the major donors through the lens of gifts and assessments of their wealth (for future gifts), possibly to the exclusion of other facets of the individual’s life; • Development officers tended to know some very interesting stories about the major donors (particularly as they related to the undergraduate experiences) that were helpful in interpreting comments made by the donor; • Both major donors and the development officers recognized “issue-driven” philanthropy; • Development officers infer that major donors enjoy the “limelight” more often than the major donors alluded to (or cared to admit); • Several major donors spoke about the importance of working with people they liked, and thus strong inter-personal skills are necessary on the part of the development officers. Differing Interpretations. There were a few instances where the donor and the development officer had different priorities and expectations: • Development officers spoke of some of their major donors as “high maintenance” whereas those same major donors just expected an elite level of interaction and treatment; • Issues of institutional accountability (e.g., stewardship reports, professional handling of gifts) were quite important to several major donors but were not alluded to as such by the development officer; • Development officers knew little about the major donor’s relationship with religion, with the exception of a few of the Jewish donors who either volunteered their connections with the Jewish community and/or received media coverage for their gifts from the various Jewish organizations; • In only one instance there was remarkable disparity between the motivations mentioned by the major gifts officer and the major donor—the major gifts officer recognized a strong level of unspoken self-centeredness and selfishness that was not voiced or even alluded to by the major donor. CONCLUSION This chapter focused on the institutional atmosphere and components that create a climate for major donor philanthropy. One word describes the expectations of philanthropists to higher education: quality. The quality of the institution is reflective in the composite educational experience, i.e., academic as well as extracurricular experiences, including the recognition of that quality as found in the University’s research.

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The experience of a collegiate education comprises a number of facets, depending on both institutional and individual factors. Whether it is a classroom setting, involvement with student government or being a member of a fraternity, elite higher education offers an array of opportunities for students to engage many aspects of their lives. The experiences which interviewees deemed most important include the expected outstanding intellectual rigor. Significant teacherstudent experiences led to enormous gratitude and became an aspect in several individuals’ motivations for philanthropy. Scholarships made the difference not only for the kind of institution major donors could attend, as well as simply being able to attend any college or university. Interviewees value higher education first and foremost for its ability to educate. Education was defined intellectually, morally and socially with colleges and universities having an extraordinary opportunity to transform society, presumably for the better. The combination of forces offered in higher educational settings was voiced by Donor Y: “Then, from the values you then give young people the tools, analytical skills if you will, like driving your car, well, how do you put a business plan together? How do you put a marketing plan together?” As a public institution within the State of Michigan, the University of Michigan has a responsibility to provide a top-flight education to the residents of the State. Interviewees recognized that the University also has a national reputation, and so its influence extends far beyond the State. The University’s role in society, as perceived and articulated by the major donors in this study, might best be described as a catalyst for intellectual and social progress. Reflective of this positioning, the University must continually strive to be responsive to its mission and in so doing, encourages philanthropy from a wideranging constituency. While academic pursuits were deemed critical, those interviewed more often recalled their extracurricular experiences (particularly of racial and ethnic diversity) as being re-markably valuable. The attributes that enabled the major donors to be successful in their careers carry over in their philanthropy to higher education. Major donors often expect (and enjoy) involvement with those institutions they support. For those who had experiences with University-based executive committees, many found this type of engagement suited to their interests and style. Issues of stewardship were critical as they were indications of how a donor’s gifts were spent and also reflected an overall level of institutional professionalism. The quality of institutional leadership, whether from a Dean or the President, was a contributing factor in how individuals felt about the institution. Finally, the tradition of annual giving often plays a reflexive role in a major donor’s decision about making a significant contribution. In order to tap the generosity of the wealthy, institutional quality must be mirrored in the advancement programs whose aim is to encourage extraordinary philanthropy. Major donors respond to outstanding institutional leadership, highlevel volunteer involvement, and stewardship of their gifts. The natural good will

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that emanates from philanthropic interest is nurtured by the development officers who strengthen the relationship between donor and the institution. Given the intricacies of major donor philanthropy, development officers who embody professional attitudes are likely to secure extraordinary philanthropy for the institutions that they represent. Advancement programs cover a range of functions that clearly enhances the relationship between philanthropists and the institution in question. For a tier-one institution like the University of Michigan, which has the resources (personnel expertise and financial backing) to cultivate, to manage, to solicit, and to engage individuals in a manner appropriate to major donors, the possibilities for philanthropic success is extraordinary. From executive committees, to the care and feeding of major donors, professionalism in advancement efforts spells institutional success.

CHAPTER 4 Of Raccoon Coats Autobiographical Experiences of Generosity

When I was at Ann Arbor—I remember this so well—I wrote…all that my dad could do was give me twelve bucks a week. Now, back then, it was not nickels and dimes, that was not all that bad, but twelve bucks a week, this was for everything. My oldest sister’s husband gave me, I remember he gave me his raccoon coat. He was a Harvard graduate, and he gave me his raccoon coat and he occasionally gave me little gifts to tide me over…(Donor D) INTRODUCTION In the roaring 20’s, a raccoon coat was a “fashion statement” for the wealthy and stylish. These coats were also extremely durable and could easily keep a young student warm during a typically gray Michigan winter. For Donor D, the raccoon coat was practical, as well as symbolic of a brother-in-law’s generosity. Chapter Four is organized around the salient autobiographical and emotional themes that emerged in the interviews: overall family atmosphere, role models for generosity, cataclysmic events, and goals for philanthropy. I also include attitudes or emotions as well as some essential characteristics that were a consistent sub-text throughout the interviews. While other topics were bandied about, these primary themes or categories represent either the most often discussed or those that had the strongest emotional resonance. The following table represents the primary biographical themes and the number of mentions each received: Table 4±1: Primary Autobiographical Themes Primary Theme

Number of Mentions

Strong supportive family environment The impact of cataclysmic events on life Role models for generosity Financial difficulty and the Depression Informal support of higher education

11 9 9 6 3

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Primary Theme

Number of Mentions

Death of a parent

2

Overall Family Atmosphere Research on altruism suggests that influences from the family have an extraordinary impact on an individual’s tendency to be altruistic. The research on volunteers in the civil rights movement shows, for example, that the stronger the relationship with an individual’s parents, the more likely the volunteer was to be “fully committed.” One of the findings in this study was the overwhelmingly positive relationship between parents and their children. Remarks similar to Donor A’s description of the family environment were heard consistently: “This was clearly a family that had a sense of sharing. A strong sense of sharing. I mean, within and without.” Donor I added emotion to that sense of sharing when she described herself as one of “four daughters who idolized their father.” The influence of a caring parent was specifically linked to ideas about generosity. For example, Donor E’s mother, who died when the donor was rather young, was known throughout the community as “the most caring woman and that she’d take (other children) in under her wing, she’d given them raincoats if it was raining.” Indeed, Donor E recalls that his mother “was a big influence in my life, a very caring person and was very generous with her time and with everybody” and then specifically relates those traits to the Donor’s current philanthropy, “so that part of it, probably a little of that rubbed off on me…” For Donor F, it was his father: “My father taught me (to be generous). Throw bread on the water and it will come back to you. Be gracious, be generous…and the man was very gracious, see. He gave, he gave. That was my father and he taught me the good things in life about giving, and being kind, and different things…” Parental influence and its effect on children’s life was voiced by Donor Q, whose mother was still alive at the time of the interview described her as “a ball of fire and a tremendous influence in my life and, I would say, of all of us. And she just had the most positive attitude—still does, she’s men tally not very good, but she smiles and gives compliments and you know, she just is an absolutely remarkable person.” Donor O characterizes childhood: “We had a very close family relationship. My parents were both hard working, very religious people, caring people; as I said we never were wealthy, we never had a lot.” Family climates were so strongly marked by caring and compassion, that several of the interviewees (almost naively) understood their life experiences as being “perfectly normal.” For example, this casual commentary from Donor T suggests that this kind of home environment was the norm for most families: It was very good. Nothing special about it. I was just fortunate that I had good parents and good family and they cared for each other and that was good. They were very supportive. I don’t think they ever missed a game or

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a track meet or whatever else I was involved with, cause they were always there. (Emphasis added) Donor Z’s home environment was equally spectacular in an unspectacular sortof-way: “…our home was always sort of open for people to come and eat dinner or [laugh] you know, whatever. Whoever happened to be (literally) passing by…” And there were similar features in Donor N’s reflections on childhood: “I think I had probably a typical childhood. I was born in (small city), my father was a minister and when I was eleven years old, we moved up into this rural community in the center of (mid-western state).” Donor N then adds a reflective comment that suggests just how wonderful-and atypicalhis childhood had been: “And to look back on it, it was almost a Mark Twain existence.” A wonderful example of a family climate which nurtured understandings of generosity is voiced by Donor Y: Well I think there was a general family philosophy which is ‘when the day is done and we lay our body aside, then the final analysis it boils down to stewardship.’ You know, ‘have we been good stewards?’ Now, whether it’s being a steward of a company with thousands of employees or stewards of a foundation or stewards of land or stewards of a political process or stewards of educational process or stewards of a class. That we may be teaching, the final analysis is ‘are we good stewards?’ Role Models for Generosity A confluence of themes in social-psychology and philanthropy indicates that role models, individuals whose actions and perspectives greatly influence others to replicate those ideas or actions, carry a great deal of weight. For these major donors, many had role models whose philosophies or contributions they wished to emulate. Role models for generosity have been cited frequently in the research on motivations for philanthropy. In discussing the generosity of his father, Donor B makes the interesting critique that a true philanthropist does not necessarily have to be wealthy: “He always used to say that the rich people never tip sufficiently, and that they didn’t understand what it meant to work hard. He was a philanthropist. He would lend money, so you know, he was a very swell figure in my life…” In two cases, an avuncular relationship served as an influential source of generosity: “…but a couple of my mother’s brothers were quite successful, and they were very generous with me. They were.” (Donor D). For Donor A, one uncle’s generosity set him on a trajectory that forever changed his life. He recalls:

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I was the beneficiary of an uncle’s beneficence in the sense that he had gone to (elite prep school). He observed that I was attending (public high school) in (small town) and was somewhat unimpressed with the results. So, he offered to send me out to this school, (prep school, feeder to Ivy League colleges), and, you know, that’s in one sense, that’s sort of cataclysmic in terms of did it make a difference. I’ve always appreciated the importance in the implications of that. Generosity to the civic community as well as to the Jewish community was exemplified in Donor G’s life through his father-in-law: “my father-in-law was a very generous man. And I watched his giving, which was exemplary, and that developed a role model for me.” Donor G’s affiliation with the Jewish community allowed contact with several leading philanthropists: “And then I got involved in the community, the Jewish community. And had (a renowned philanthropist in the community) there and he provided the ultimate example, if you will, of giving.” A surprising finding was the number of respondents who, when discussing role models, frequently mentioned education as the avenue by which those role modes expressed their beneficence. For example, the tradition of supporting underprivileged students to the University of Michigan had a long standing place in several families: “Actually my father, grandfather, great-grandfather and greatgreat-grandfather all went to the University of Michigan from Indiana and daddy was very big into scholarships for kids from Northern Indiana, particularly minorities.” (Donor I). Donor I continued, He (my father) was always sponsoring the kids and taking the kids up to school and providing them money to go to school. I think he put five or six kids all the way through school. He put one kid through all of (elite private university); He sent a kid to (elite private university). Likewise for Donor E: “My father always was sponsoring somebody at the University of Michigan; he always was helping to support one or two students at the university.” Adoption or guardianship is another kind of extraordinary outpouring of generosity and for Donor Z’s parents, who found themselves with tremendous responsibilities at an early age: It was a huge responsibility and it was during the war. My father was 33 years old and had suddenly seven people depending upon him plus two aunts… I felt that mother gave herself to these children, to anybody else. And my parents saw the kids through college. It meant a lot. Basically my parents did that…that’s hugely generous…and I grew up with that.I thought nothing unusual about that. (Emphasis added).

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Cataclysmic Events Tom Brokow’s best-selling novel, The Greatest Generation, chronicles the American landscape during the World War II era. Indeed, the cataclysmic events of the Depression, World Wars, the Holocaust and other national and international tragedies profoundly affected the majority of the interviewees. The responses to these and other personal difficulties reflect the individual personalities involved as well as the particular community in which these individuals lived. One of the interviewees was involved in civilian efforts during World War II. When asked to open a supply store in the Pentagon, he did so willingly: Donor P: We were invited to open up a drugstore in the Pentagon building because they had 35,000 employees in the Pentagon and they were essentially all military. And they asked me to open up a drugstore there, because they were so busy they didn’t have time to shop at their shops and we carried certain general merchandise too, as well as prescriptions. The Donor’s act of generosity proved to also be a fortuitous business decision: the company’s brand name became a recognized commodity among military personnel. During the War years, Americans joined together in a common cause almost unheard of since the American Revolution. The comradeship which this sense of purpose spawned is illustrated by Donor A’s parents: “My mother was a nurse’s aid and of course during the War, both of them (mother and father) were involved in civilian efforts, she in the hospitals, he was administrator of the OPA, in (small town), so there was a community spirit sense there.” Donor Q’s remembrances of what life was like during the latter years of the War is helpful to an understanding of the notions of responsibility which the effort engendered: I was 8 when World War II started and everybody was so involved in the war effort…there was a sense of doing for the good of everyone,…we laugh now about this. We had a group called the busy fingers club and we would go out and collect bacon fat and tin foil…you tried to earn money because you bought 10 cent saving stamps in class every Monday and then you saved that up and bought war bonds with it… It was not giving money; we didn’t have any money to give. But it was giving your-self to help an effort that people shared in. I recall knitting…I remember making candy and taking it to a Veteran’s hospital… The Depression brought a level of hardship that affected the entire nation, and growing up during this time meant struggles and hardships in a manner previously unseen in the history of our country. Donor B relates, “I mean, we had

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no money. My mother went to high school, graduated from high school, and that’s, you know, that’s the extent of the higher education in our whole family. My father never finished…these were Depression days…” To attend college, then, was a luxury reserved only for the wealthy. Donor J remembers, [I was] born in the Depression, my father was a businessman, had his own auto parts business. The Depression, I remember the late 30’s, remember World War II very clearly, and had the dream to go to the University and, you know, I was bright enough to get in,…didn’t have the money, but with that little scholarship and working every summer, I was able to do that… The psychological impact of the Depression lasted long after the dark days became brighter. Donor D reflects: As a child of the Depression, you’re never sure where your next dollar is going to come from no matter how well you’re doing, and then you’re pretty tight-fisted. I mean, it was, if you’ve worked for 25 cents an hour as what they call a shoe-dog, at Kline’s. If you’ve worked your way through, to a certain degree, it’s not easy to start tithing, if you will. Conversely, those with “Depression mentalities” often have more to share, especially in the economically strong times of the late 1990’s: “With the market being the way it is, we can’t live long enough to spend at our Depression rate ideas, all this money…” (Donor R). The serious financial hardships wrought by the Depression demanded individual attitudes of hard work and thrift. Donor O’s response to these difficult times with an attitude of responsibility: The threat was there, and we knew it, and we were taught to be responsible for our own actions. We were encouraged to earn our own money. I started delivering papers already when I was seven years old. And until the time I went to U of M for my master’s, I always had at least one part-time job, had summer jobs, I worked at many, many, many different things at these part-time jobs. Saved my own money. Then we were encouraged to save money, not to spend every thing. The death of a parent, particularly when a child is relatively young re-focuses one’s life dramatically. For Donor B, the death of his father made him recalibrate his own life’s meaning, its direction, and the values that are most important: And my father died in my last year of law school. And he was 46, and I was 25, and we had a relationship which was almost like an older brother than a

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parent. That’s a young age for a parent to die. It puts a lot of responsibility on an only child…there’s a whole different set of values because of what you went through and what you experience, and so experiencing that and then knowing that there’s mortality. For Donor P, the death of a parent left a void in company leadership which needed to be filled: “My dad passed on in 1939, December, and so I took over at that time and that was just the beginning of World War II. We had many, many problems during World War II. There was a shortage of personnel. Folks from the company going into the service. Shortage of merchandise.” Goals for Philanthropy Research on goals suggests that their power to motivate is immense. However, very little research on goals for philanthropy exists. This section explores the relationship between goals and philanthropy. The literature describes the importance of goals as a motivational force (Ford, 1992). With this line of questioning I sought to understand how and if goals were understood in the context of motivations for philanthropy. Goals for philanthropy seemed to be of two distinctive types: specifically researched or definitive, and non-definitive, more casual goals. Donor S, for example, began with a definitive goal and it was surpassed with the expertise of the advancement office: “With Michigan’s help, with their fund raising, they have helped me exceed my goals. I always had certain dreams that I’d give such and such an amount to charity.” The goals most often mentioned center around a combination of specific features endemic to a research university and an association with quality programs. Some goals, however, were as generic as Donor Z’s: “We feel that you give to the next generation and you give to research and you give to the betterment of culture by doing that.” Donor N’s goals were much more specifically related to the gift: “And then we hope to create three more Chairs in the future and then surround those Chairs with scholarships so that we attract not only quality academics, professors to fill those Chairs, but that then we attract qualified graduate students.” Donor G’s gift had an innovative educational aspect to it and the donor’s goals reflected those parameters: “(My goal was) to perpetuate this new method of education. Then, you know, not only being able to make a change, which is what I tried to do with my philosophy of business, more or less a change agent.” Donor Y’s goals for AIDS related research allowed for that philanthropy to be a change agent as well. It’s interesting to note that Donor E’s goal revolved around the role of the University within the State of Michigan.

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…it was my belief, which (Dean) convinced me of, the University was one of the prized assets of the state and we needed to make that asset the best, the best ever and I think that (Dean) did a great job along with (another Dean) of making the (school at the University) one of the top three or four (schools) in the country…our desire during the early 80’s was to make… some of the schools at the University of Michigan the best. We wanted to show…the state of Michigan, (that) graduates from the state …come back and…create jobs and build businesses and build their lives in Michigan even though we knew a lot of them were from outside (out-of-state). For Donor Q, the out-of-state issue was extremely important as well, for as Donor E indicated, the University and the State of Michigan reap the benefit of out-ofstate students attending the University. Out-of-state attendance, understood as “geographical diversity,” and teaching excellence were the combined interests of Donor Q: Well, we made some specific teaching excellence and diverse body of students at least diverse to the extent of enabling out-of-state students to continue to come. And the gift that we made particularly the (specific school) portion of the gift is what really…was to ensure that out-of-state students would be able to attend because that, you know, that breadth of background of people from a lot of areas, is part of what’s important. As an institutional entity, a university is almost universally thought of as worthy of generous support and various programs which it encompasses resonate with some more than others. As philanthropy is often issue driven, those major donors with well- articulated goals seek to have those goals fulfilled at places where they can be achieved. With professional guidance, philanthropic goals can be initiated, met and exceeded. Attitudinal Forces. Throughout the interviews, a series of attitudes was expressed about giving which were bandied about so frequently that they deserve mention. As an aspect of emotions, these attitudes seemed to propel the interviewees into a level of righteousness and conviction about their giving and the necessity for others to contribute as well. Emotional attributes Because of the impact of higher education on the lives of these major donors, the recognition of gifts received seemed to meld into a sense of responsibility to offer those opportunities to future generations. This was clearly the case for Donor B: “So, obviously in the back of my mind was there’s a need to pay back, and that’s very important, and in my experience (this is kind of interesting having been on the other side helping to raise 95 million dollars) what amazes me is that how few people feel that way.”

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For Donor J, a personal experience of generosity in mid-life provided examples which influenced his generosity: And this was many years ago, a professional acquaintance helped me, and finally after the dust settled and I said ‘geez, how can I ever repay you? I couldn’t have done this without you, what can I do? How can I repay you?’ He said ‘oh, you can’t. That’s easy, you can’t. But what you can do is help somebody else.’ I’ve never forgotten that, and that’s just always been foremost. I’m a great believer in the word help. Helping not in the sense of charity, not in the sense of taking responsibility away from people, but giving them the opportunity just as I had an opportunity. I’ve been very fortunate in business. I couldn’t have been fortunate without some people opening doors, or helping me when nobody else would help me, and that’s what I remember and my way of recognizing that is helping somebody else. Several individuals mentioned the critical importance of the University in their professional and financial success. Donor K exemplifies this perspective: “if I were trying to convince people to give, I think they should have this concept of payback…the University of Michigan was an important factor in that success, now it’s time to help the University, but more than that, it is to help the students…” For those who discussed an obligation to contribute, there seems to be no real decision about contributing: their generosity is on automatic pilot. For example, Donor K concluded, “…it’s a sense of obligation as much as generosity. In other words, I think you can have a sense of generosity, you feel well, I want to be generous, I’ve got a lot of money. I find that most people that I know who truly give, give out of a sense of obligation.” Donor Q remarked, “it’s those same things that I believe in strongly: sharing what I have, returning the gifts that were given to me, helping those who need help.” Donor O reflected on the role of responsibility and remarks: “But still this concept of giving and of giving back because you have, you have received yourself, and you have been rewarded and you should share those rewards, I think plays a big part today in my attitude.” While the topic of this study is from a philanthropic angle, one distinction that occurred was between the notion of generosity and compassion. Compassion for others doesn’t require large sums of money, as Donor D reflects, but rather it is an overall attitude. In discussing their family lives, the concept of compassion as a corollary for both generosity and philanthropy reflected the financial situations in the days before and during World War II. Donor G put it best, Not generous there, it was compassion for others. As I was growing up, there was always great compassion for other people. And my parents were

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not wealthy…(but) my grandfather brought a lot of people from the Holocaust…(it’s) that type of compassion that I’m talking about. Donor I describes an aspect of her motivation as a selfishness, contributing to outstanding programs, such as those at Michigan, bolsters and strengthens her academic credentials: “But I, I’m more selfish…. I give to people and I give to winners and probably I took great pride in my degree and wanted to preserve it and so selfishly I thought if I could do some good…” Donor S so enjoys the emotional rewards of giving that he uses the term selfish as a logical outgrowth of philanthropy: “My philosophy is you don’t do it ’cause you’re generous, at least I don’t, you do it ’cause you’re selfish if you get more than you give. And so they (the University’s development office) helped me be more selfish and get more for me. And I’m giving more so, you know, I really appreciate it. I feel good about me, and I get joy out of it, and it’s got very little to do with anybody else.” Essential Considerations Major donors voiced a series of foundational considerations that were most often obliquely mentioned yet cited in a manner that suggested that these factors were inordinately important. These “must be in the mix” variables were assumed to be so potent that they should also be described as essential criterion for major donor philanthropy. The essential considerations alluded to include having been asked for a volunteer involvement as well as a gift, age, discretionary income and taxrelated implications of making sizable contribution. Two donor families mentioned the city that they resided in as playing an important role in their philanthropic habits, because they were asked to become involved: “This is a town where you don’t sit very long before someone knocks on the door and says we need your help.” (Donor A). Other donors mentioned a visit by a development officer who asked for a gift as the catalyst that began the gift discussion. Involvement in community issues exposed the donors to the problems and potentials of their hometowns and contributing to regional causes gave them another philanthropic experience. The discussion of an individual’s age was brought up in vastly differing ways. First, age played a factor in forcing calendar deadlines and implementing retirement plans, “We were just retiring and we had to make estate plans” (Donor R). For another, their becoming older touched on issues of human mortality and these issues forced them to spend time considering questions of eternity. (For one donor, the issue of leaving a legacy served as a way of being remembered forever). Finally, the age-cohort experience of life in the United States (as discussed previously) during the early part of the twentieth century colored issues of gratitude and generosity. While the topic of discretionary income was infrequently mentioned, it was recognized as being so obvious that it almost did not need to be mentioned: “If

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you don’t have the money, you can’t give a gift.” The more sub tle question about discretionary income is the concept of wealth consciousness, e.g., how much discretionary income a person thinks they have may depend on both a number in a savings account as well as a psychological decision concerning an individual’s particular needs and wants. Whether it was to avoid an estate tax or a capital gains tax, the taxation issue compelled several of the major donors to make the gift by a specific deadline. Again, this was mentioned infrequently but with a certainty that implied that it was clearly a factor in the philanthropic decision-making process. CONCLUSION The life narratives of the major donors, particularly of their youthful experiences, portray worlds in which they were encouraged to participate in community and society. That sense of participation drew directly from their family backgrounds, and was assisted by the historical milieu in which they were living. Having individuals who are able to teach generosity through their actions and lifestyles plays a crucial role in carrying on a philanthropic tradition. Role modeling represents a form of teaching philanthropic values and individuals who represent such generosity encourage others by their actions. Extraordinary acts of generosity become ordinary events and since they are seen as ordinary events, the ability to replicate them would be a typical response in the course of an individual’s life. The remembrances of the Depression, World Wars and overall financial hardships seared those difficult days in the memories of the interviewees. And while those memories bespoke of troubling times, they also recalled the wonderful ways in which families, communities, and indeed the country gathered together to support each other. The communitarian effect of working towards common goals, reaching out to others and the recognition of one’s part in the process are life-experiences which help to create a context in which philanthropy is both easily understood and encouraged. Whether hindsight, nostalgia, or repression colors their collective memories, the language and incidents the interviewees chose to reference are indications of just how fortunate—at least emotionally—these major donors were. Difficult situations were interpreted as positive, life-enhancing opportunities, where children witnessed what happens when a community comes together to support each other. Parental and familial love, in its myriad forms, was the basis for such happy childhood experiences. The attitudes toward giving represent a range of emotions and seem to be a critical factor in under-girding an individual’s philanthropy. Some of these emotions are described in terms of re-payment, giving back and obligation and represent an other-directedness, whereas those describing self-ishness made it clear that their giving was part of an ego satisfaction and enhancement. The meaning and importance of philanthropy, from an emo tional vector, depends on how an individual defines and interprets their emotions.

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Although several essential considerations were infrequently mentioned, their lack of discussion time does not diminish their potency as motivating factors. For example, civic environments that encourage volunteer involvement and philanthropy create opportunities for individuals to witness the impact of their efforts and generosity. Age can be viewed from biological, emotional or historical perspectives, each of which may have a role in how an individual recognizes their engagement in society. Age also moves the topic of philanthropy to the forefront as tax considerations play a definitive role in philanthropic giving; tax issues force a decision about generosity by inserting a time-line and financial advantages into lofty ideals. Finally, actually being asked for a gift is an obvious and necessary element in the philanthropic equation. A series of emotions heighten the mood surrounding giving to higher education. The emotions of repayment and gratitude are philanthropic fuel for major gift giving. Indeed, the memory of previous experiences of generosity compelled many of these major donors to reciprocate for what they have received.

CHAPTER 5 Religion in the Lives of Major Donors

If everybody would do what their religion tells them, they would be generous. It doesn’t matter what religion you are. (Donor F). INTRODUCTION Chapter Three focused on institutionally-related and driven themes and how these factors increase or create motivation for philanthropy to higher education. Chapter Four explored the conceptually relevant biographical themes regarding the major donor’s experience of altruism and pro-social behavior, further amplifying Chapter Three’s discussion. Together, those chapters answered, in part, the first research question: “What are the motivations for major donor philanthropy to higher education?” This chapter builds on these previous chapters by addressing the second research question: “What is the role of religion in the lives of major donors to higher education?” One of the challenges for this research was comprehending and interpreting the myriad ways in which individuals affiliate with religion, particularly as it relates to their philanthropy to higher education. Since, as Clifford Geertz suggests, one dimension of religion is its ability to “establish powerful, pervasive and long-lasting moods and motivations” (1972, p. 90), whether or not religion establishes inclinations for philanthropy is captured in the second primary question: What is the role of religion in the lives of major donors to higher education? Burr Gibson, a senior officer at Marts and Lundy, a consulting firm specializing in Institutional Advancement for higher education, once remarked that the single most consistent bit of advice he gives his clients is the phrase: “It all depends.” The sheer variety of institutional strengths, histo ries, budgetary support and indicators of quality make generalizations among institutions futile. Mr. Gibson’s succinct advice is similarly the most accurate interpretation of the role of religion in the lives of major donors: it all depends. What specifically the role

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of religion depends on, then, and how it creates an environment conducive to philanthropy to higher education, is the subject matter of this chapter. In many respects, an initial response to the conceptual question of the role of religion in the lives of major donors to higher education might be construed as: “It all depends on the religious traditions of your youth.” In Chapter Four, major donors discussed how important their familial experiences were for creating an environment conducive to generosity. Chapter Five focuses on the alternating impact religion has had (or not had) in their lives. Defining Religion. The term “religion” connotes a wide range of thoughts and experiences among all people, particularly within pluralistic American culture. Of the many definitions for religion, Pals (1996) constructed one in harmony with sociologists: “religion consists of belief and behavior associated in some way with a supernatural realm, a sphere of divine or spiritual beings” (Pals, 1996, p. 270). One needs to expand Pals’ definition to include the aspect of group behavior, which is why, in American parlance, a religion references a particular denomination that associates itself with a specific set of formalized beliefs and behaviors. Sociologists also refer to involvement with religion as “religious commitment” or “religiosity” suggesting “religious commitment encompasses both institutionalized and non-institutionalized forms of belief and behavior, and church as well as non-church-oriented meaning systems (Roof, 1997, p. 18). Religion conveys a type of moral authority that serves as a motivating influence upon human behavior (Schervish, 1996; Wuthnow, 1991; Roof, 1993). While moral authority is clearly not the sole aegis of organized religion, the sheer plenitude of directives emanating from the organizational/institutional structures of religion is such that a practical link in the vocabulary of American society and the social sciences between morality and religion is often made. Anthropologist Clifford Geertz (1973) understood religion as a cultural system and his analysis of religion has been the touchstone in the sociology of religion for over thirty years. Geertz recognized that “sacred symbols” organize individual and communal life, defining religion as “(1) a system of symbols which acts to (2) establish powerful, pervasive, and long-lasting moods and motivations in men by (3) formulating conceptions of a general order of existence and (4) clothing these conceptions with such an aura of factuality that (5) the moods and motivations seem uniquely realistic” (1973, p. 90). Geertz furthered this definition by analyzing religion from a cultural dimension which he saw as “an historically transmitted pattern of meanings embodied in symbols, a system of inherited conceptions expressed in symbolic form by means of which men (sic) communicate, perpetuate, and develop their knowledge about attitudes toward life” (1973, p. 89). In this publication, religion is viewed as a sociological phenomenon, similar to a Geertzian recognition of a cultural dimension of religion, as both a world view

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and an ethos. As an aspect of the sociological reality of the United States, the organizational aspect of religion, e.g. denominational affiliation, must be incorporated into Geertz’s definition. According to Greeley (1972), the ethnic and religious pluralism of America, combined with its tradition of religious freedom and the separation of church and state, have fostered “a denominational society.” By adding the dimension of denominations, the institutional aspect of religion remains true to Geertz, who strove “to see all religions through the eyes and ideas of the people who practice them” (Pals, 1996, p. 234). Geertz’s notion of “thick description” assists in conceptualizations of what I suggest is the essence of religion, e.g., notions and recognition of the spiritual and sacred (viz., engagement with the transcendent), which require much context, nuance and ultimately Kierkegaardian “leaps of faith.” For example, the forces that have affected Judaism in America in the twentieth century have shaped an unparalleled philanthropic environment. Because of the powerful identification with which Jewish interviewees identified themselves and their world-views as expressions of their Judaism, this philanthropic potency deserves first examination. JUDAISM In this section I highlight five distinctive features about Judaism that were mentioned most often and relate directly to a Jewish notion of generosity. Judaism as an ethnicity is first explored as it so clearly impacts how individuals understand themselves as being Jewish. The role of compassion, then, follows as a distinctive trait of a Jewish understanding of justice, followed by the experiences of Jewish volunteerism and leadership in the Jewish and American community. Zionism and the Holocaust are then discussed, particularly as they impact Jewish giving, and the section concludes with a brief look at why Jewish society places such a high value on education. An Ethnicity as well as a Religion The passion with which respondents repeatedly spoke of the meaning of Judaism on their identity and how it impacted their philanthropy was simply astounding. For the vast majority of the seven individuals who were affiliated in some way with Judaism, such strikingly similar experiences and powerful identification is both sociological and philanthropic phenomenon. All of those who were interviewed were in agreement with the understanding that Judaism is both a religious affiliation and a cultural identification, e.g.,: Donor G: “Judaism is not only a religion, it’s an ethnicity”. This point was raised repeatedly as the comment by Donor C explained: “…a huge number of Jews don’t even think of Judaism as a religion, they think of it as a cultural attachment.” In fact, many of the Jewish sample have few formal ties with a local synagogue or temple, yet still consider themselves very much Jewish.

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Given that Jewish identity can be understood as ethnicity, the possibly contradictory comment by Donor D makes sense: “I feel myself ethnically Jewish, but I don’t observe regular Jewish services, or holidays…I haven’t fasted on the Day of Atonement for years and years, and we don’t celebrate Jewish holidays in my home.” Such strong identification with the culture of Judaism and seemingly little corresponding attachment to the religious rituals stands in dramatic contrast to organized Christianity in the United States, so much so that Donor C remarked that his Christian friends never seem “to get this one.” “In other words, I don’t fast, I’m just not real observant…I wish I were, but I’m not, and I don’t think that makes me any less Jewish or good” (Donor S). Non-participation of many Jews even at the High Holy Days illustrates the separation between the ritualism of the temple and an identification independent from that of the synagogue. As Donor G put it: “To be Jewish doesn’t mean that you’re observant and attend synagogue on Saturday and the holidays, and pray every morning, and pray every night. That’s fine, and that’s a good form, (but) it’s not the only form.” This comment lends credence to Blau’s thought that the Jewish community was the historic basis for the Jewish organization, and “the attachment of Jews today to the synagogues is an artificial and mechanical adherence” (Blau, 1976, p. 92). For Jews who view their Jewish identity as a birthright, a “good” Jew need not participate in any of the sacred rituals or observances. The more liberal perspective is articulated in comments made by Donor G: I spent a goodly part of my life following the tenants of the Torah, the Ten Commandments or the 256 mitzvahs (good deeds), and that sort of stuff I like doing. So it strikes me that you can “live the life” versus “observing the life,” and not only that, not through me, but through other figures in the field. The Rabbis have come to that conclusion as well. You know, this is the younger, more modern thing. Since Rabbis are primarily teachers and interpreters of the law, their role in the contemporary American Jewish community is often tangential to the myriad of Jewish organizations that encompasses a wide range of activities and services. The lay (non-clerical) volunteers are the de-facto leadership structure of American Judaism. Donor G gives a historical explanation: “In the Jewish life back a couple thousand years ago, it was the prophets that guided the people, then it was the kings and then it was the Rabbis, today it’s pretty much the volunteer leadership that leads the community. So that the major, major role is played by the organized Jewish community, rather than rabbinical.” One example of the disparity between the rabbinate and the volunteer community can be found in the experiences of Donor B, who has been active with the Jewish Outreach to the Intermarried (JOI), a group that works with Jews who are married to a non-Jewish partner. “You have male and female Jews who intermarry and for a variety of reasons, their religion doesn’t recognize the

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product of that intermarriage, and at the same time they’re not prepared to commit to another religion, so they drift.” Not only do organizations like the JOI operate independently of the local Jewish clergy, as Donor B points out, it’s the clergy (rabbinate) who are part of the problem: “And our enemy would be the Rabbinate because they particularly prefer to deal with it (question of who is really Jewish) in their own strictures.” The needs of the Jewish community required that the rabbis and other leaders seek financial assistance. “I remember when the synagogue would call. Then we had a big move as far as heating buildings, we started to use oil. He paid for the change from coal to oil. Then that wasn’t the end. The next fuel they were gonna use was gas. He changed from oil to gas; for the local synagogue” (Donor F). Jewish Compassion and Justice The social outreach of the Jewish community, both for themselves as well as others, is one of many important ways Jews contribute uniquely to American society. The accomplishments of the American Jewish community in intellectual, cultural and business ventures far exceed the relatively small number of Jews (estimated at approximately three percent of the total American population). Interviewees expressed substantial pride in Jewish accomplishments: “The contributions in most fields, (not sports) but a lot of others, compared to the number of people—I was always proud of it. I had a Rabbi we really respected and was well respected in town” (Donor S). Donor G voices similar respect: “But I look at our Jewish community and youth, and leadership in virtually everything; arts, Nobel peace prize, so evidently some of our teaching, some of our virtues, some of our value system is meaningful in most everyday life.” A hallmark of Jewish engagement in the social arena is an extraordinary ability of the Jewish community to care about those in need. Donor W: “I think there’s very strong beliefs in Judaism, that goes to giving, to sharing.” Whether Jewish compassion stems from an empathy engraved in the Exodus, the Diaspora or more contemporary experiences with the Holocaust, Jews are renowned in the United States for their generosity. Substantial fi nancial generosity was obviously limited during the Depression and War years, but nonfinancial efforts such as volunteerism and individual and communal acts of sharing what little they had compensated for the lack of substantial sums. Virtually all of the interviewees (both Jewish and Christ-ian) came from difficult financial situations. Compassion was the human antidote when funds were limited. Compassion, a form of empathy, in many respects serves as an antecedent to justice. Jewish families, in particular, create an environment where sharing is the norm and the values of compassion and empathy are distilled. As Donor B points out: “From the Judaic side at least, there comes a point the family you were raised in that charity is considered to be a very, very important aspect of life. So, if a family paves that way, it’s part of your culture. Now whether that’s based on

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religion or culture, doesn’t matter.” Donor C adds: “It’s probably as important as anything else in this discussion, and now I’m skipping to family background. A mother and father…survival, for caring, all these words I’m giving you, which extend to charitable involvement altogether were very much in my atmosphere.” For example, Donor G makes the critical distinction between compassion and generosity, noting that his parents and grandparents had little to be generous with: “Compassion for others, that’s important…my grandfather brought a lot of people from the Holocaust, that’s the type of compassion that I’m talking about.” The framework for such compassion stems, in part, from the holy scriptures, as Donor S bluntly puts it: “I’m not trying to act like I know so much about the religion, but the Talmud says ‘if my fathers planted trees for me, so I’ll plant for my children’, you know, somebody did it for me.” Helping the less fortunate then, was similar to God’s righteousness in delivering the Jews from slavery and into the promised land; the tradition of generosity is thus an endemic aspect of Jewish culture. Donor N: “So, it’s the model of the giving, and I think it’s at the very heart of the Jewish giving. I mean, that whole belief in giving back is rooted in Judaism, it has strong religious overtones.” These religious overtones are rooted in the philosophy of tzedakah. This concept was articulated often by several of the interviewees, the essential ingredients of which are voiced by Donor S who locates the philosophy in layman’s terms: The name of charity in Judaism is tzedakah. Which does not mean charity, it means justice, and the concept is: “the guys that can do it better do it” (and my dad was never in the position I’m in), but he told me that “you know, if the guys who can do it don’t do it, it ain’t gonna get done.” Jewish Philanthropy and Volunteer Leadership Jewish compassion is concretized through an extensive network of programs within and outside of the Jewish community. Even non-Jews, such as Donor N, remarked at the level of generosity experienced: “I know that many of my friends are in the Jewish community, and, there is something about that community that says there’s a responsibility to give back.” One very tangible outcome of the impact of non-clerical leadership is the opportunity for leadership in the network of affiliate organizations. Since the need for philanthropy is a sine qua non of non-profits, virtually all of the volunteer leadership has experience in fund raising. As Donor B remarked, “There was always a cause that we grew up being associated. Valid or invalid. There was a cause, so you went around collecting money.” Donor X added that one was “trained” as a youth to set aside some coins for an organization you believed in, which was the initial foray into involvement with that group: “You’d get a nickel to go to the movies, or ten cents, and you had two cents (left over), put it in the box.” Donor G: “My own involvement’s just developed, nurtured,

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expanded, by giving annually to the Jewish community. Starting in 1959, I gave $50, and have increased my giving over several years.” One aspect of Jewish generosity is that it encompasses non-Jewish causes as well. “Enormous generosity of the Jewish community is extraordinary, so that it taught me philanthropy at a much different level. It’s those two things that I’ve learned from the Jewish community: large donations and you’ve got to do for the general community.” (Donor G) And Donor F’s gifts are examples of the variety of organizations that are supported: “So I donate to synagogues, churches, parochial schools, Jewish schools, doesn’t matter…” This remark flows right from Jewish law: “one is obligated to give to everyone who extends his hand [to ask for charity]. This includes gentiles [and idolaters] since one is obligated to support the gentile poor together with the poor of Israel” (Arbaah Turim, Yoreh De’ah, sec. 251, subsec. 2. as quoted in Tamari, 1995, p. 165). Donor C’s perspective on obligation is right in line with Jewish teaching: My father’s charitable involvement and community involvement was immense even when he had very little money, and same with my mother’s family…so that the whole atmosphere around me, your job in life is never to forget that you should help the local schools, help the local synagogue, whoever you are, whatever it is, that you are very much to be concerned with things around you. Zionism, the Holocaust and Affiliated Philanthropic Effects The quest to establish a geographic and spiritual homeland has been a theme in American Jewish life for over 150 years. The effects of World Wars, and the programs for ethnic “cleansing” in the pogroms of Russia and the Holocaust, rallied the American Jewish community together in the first half of the twentieth century in a manner previously unseen among Jews in the United States. Support for the State of Israel seems to have been a bonding force among the sometimes contentious strands of Judaism. The maintenance and survival of Israel demanded strong financial support from Jews worldwide. Since the most affluent Jews lived in the United States, raising money for Israel became a staple of American Jewish life: Donor S: “When we were little kids, everybody had a little blue bank to save money to send to Palestine.” For a large number of American Jews, the establishment of Israel consumed their lives. As Donor C recalls: “Now, my grandfather wasn’t rich, but he was a man who gave his life to sacrifice for an idealistic cause…My mother’s father was part of a world famous Zionist order. I was his youngest grandchild and enthralled with him.” Donor G adds that, My parents had a blue can, you put your coins in, everybody had that from the age zip, okay, it’s just part of our heritage…and to share, I mean, my

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parents hardly had nothing, they invited people over from the Holocaust… Extraordinary! The drive for a homeland merged with other charitable themes. Donor C’s recollection of his childhood recount the importance of philanthropic themes: I was brought up in a home where taking care of a poor relative or supporting the local Jewish charity or giving money to Israel took a high priority. When I say a high priority, when I was about twelve years old, my mother and father were having a discussion, and they were worried about Israel’s survival. They agreed between the two of them to give up their year’s vacation so they could increase the amount of money they could send to Israel. One donor suggests that there was really no alternative than to be generous, “because we brought members of our family over. You brought your immediate members and we branched out to the next layer of membership of family/ friends.” This was done because the communities from which they came, “wouldn’t give them a dime, (would) beat them up.” Given the plethora of Jewish affiliated agencies and the constant need for volunteer leadership and continued fund-raising, several of the major donors had opportunities to hone their leadership talents and to learn the ropes of philanthropy. As Donor S remarks: “Judaism helped encourage me and lots of other people.” The Value of Education in Jewish culture. For both theological and practical reasons, the Jewish community has an inclination toward study (particularly of the Torah), analysis (of what the Torah means) and debate (who’s interpretation is most accurate?). A love for education and intellectual endeavors has also been a means for personal and professional ad vancement in American society, particularly within the professions. Immigrant communities that were able to avail themselves of higher education saw a rapid escalation of financial income and societal acceptance. And in the climate of World War II, an education was a possession that “nobody can take away from you, even Hitler, he had to kill you, and then he didn’t take it with him” (Donor F). The importance which Jewish society places on education makes philanthropy to higher education a symbiosis. Fundamental to Jewish community life, the study of the Torah is a holy endeavor which has spawned a vibrant intellectual life filled with debate, discussion, and analysis: “From ancient times, study, conceived as study of Torah, has been considered one of the three pillars upon which the religious life was based. The tradition of Judaism regarded study as the most proper vocation of man; his occupation, the way in which he earned his living, was secondary to his study” (Blau, 1976, p. 114). Tamari cites Jewish law and notes “the study of Torah is considered spiritually to be higher than that of prayer” (Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Tefillan, chap.1, sec.4. as quoted in Tamari).

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CHRISTIANITY Herein I detail the responses of those members of the sample who identified with the Christian tradition, most of whom come from mainline Protestant denominations. This section is organized around the themes that were central to the discussion of religion with the major donors. Discussion of an institutional orientation frames this section because it helps to explain the variety in Christian ways of thinking as well as the contrast to Judaism. The theme of a Christian conscience explores the role of the institution and the philosophies it teaches as a special feature of the Christian tradition. Involvement with the church follows and a brief discussion of financial support of the church concludes this section. Christianity as an Institutional Orientation Christianity in contemporary American society is defined by both theological content and a relationship to an organizational structure—the church— institutional branches of which are referred to as denominations. While institutional aspects of American Christianity are remarkably diverse, many of the denominational tenets are quite similar, often owning to the Bible as a common source of tradition. Where Judaism is defined as an ethnicity, Christianity’s cohesiveness stems from its denominational and organizational orientation. The sacred rites are performed at weekly church services by a designated group of clerics (e.g., ministers or priests), and at these services (which are often preceded by programs of instruction and followed by group-related activities), the fundamentals of Christianity are extolled. Clergy are expected to deliver the “truths” of the faith through their sermons and preaching. Many Christians supplement Sabbath services with home devotions such as Bible reading and prayer. As Christianity is institutionally driven, one’s identity ultimately depends on a decision to participate, with “practicing” or “non-practicing” as the typical descriptive categories. Many of the interviewees spoke fondly about their relationship to their church, which held an important place in family life, such as Donor I: “…I always went to Sunday school…it wasn’t a huge part of our life but you were always expected on Sunday that you went to church and you had the family Sunday dinner.” On Creating a Christian Conscience Christianity, like all major religions, teaches a very specific set of values on how to act within the world and priorities central to leading a Christian life. Many of those interviewed found that these values provided an ethical and moral compass that they depended upon throughout their lives. Donor L recounts that “If we hadn’t spent the time we did as small children, in the very formative years in the church, we’d probably (I say we, my sister’s passed away) wouldn’t have had

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many of the ethical and moral values that I have today.” The impact of consistent church attendance coupled with the very specific value orientation is voiced by Donor Q: I started going to church when I was probably about six years old, so that’s 58 years of my life, they’ve been talking about an example of Jesus and caring for other people and the golden rule was an absolutely key part of our upbringing. Organized Christianity’s dissemination of a set of tenets on how to live a moral life (such as the “golden rule”) were values that interviewees cited as particularly important, especially when children were young. These specific values were frequently mentioned as an important aspect of church attendance. Donor Q frames the importance of these distinctive values with the commentary: “You wanted the value system that was reinforced at a church:…caring for others…love your brother as yourself, your neighbor as yourself…To me, that’s the basis of an outlook on the world.” Since value structures do not exist in a vacuum, family and the local community, combined with the church, were sources which shaped Donor O’s conscience in regard to gratitude: “It has a lot to do, with what I would refer to as my upbringing. …[T]he influence of my parents, the influence of the church here that I was brought up in, and the influence of the Dutch community that I was brought up in. The attitude there was one of hard work and sharing, and the Golden Rule is important. The idea of tithing” (Donor O). And Donor Z recalls that the values voiced in church and held by fellow members of the congregation were critical for how their family wished to engage in the world: “We moved a lot and I think it gave us a closeness to certain people with values and relationships that you do not have with somebody that you meet in another way. It’s a community and you share it, and I thought it was particularly important when we were moving a lot… it’s important anyway.” Donor I agrees and adds that: Through my involvement in the church, I think it strengthened my spirituality, and it was something that I could understand and it gave me a great deal of support. That is one of the reasons why I like to support the church. It’s very important to me to have my children join the church and to become a part of the church. Christianity seems to provide an avenue to impart moral values. At the time of the interview, the President of the United States was embroiled in a scandal that was an embarrassment for the country. Donor I uses President Clinton’s peccadilloes as a metaphor for other societal problems and suggests a possible role for organized religion: “I look now at the importance of giving to the church because to me the biggest problem in the United States is not only education…but is the

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lack of spirituality. What’s happening in the White House (Clinton and all this stuff) is abhorrent (and I’m not a fundamentalist).” Christianity is very clear on the role of money and earthy possessions and Donor O reflects on these teachings which impact his understanding of generosity: Donor O: “Although it’s okay to become wealthy, the love of money is the root of all evil. I mean, this is the way that we were brought up so that I never had a goal of reaching a certain net worth, I never had a goal of becoming a millionaire, or anything like that…” (Emphasis added). Church Involvement as a Context for Philanthropy While generosity and philanthropy are important theoretical considerations, churches provide numerous opportunities for applying charitable theory. Programs to assist the poor, a variety of fund raisers for those in need as well as the traditional collection or “passing of the plate” established habits for individuals like Donor M who remarked that: “Since I was going every week, and there was a weekly collection, I always put in.” Donor D’s commentary captures an aspect of the motivational equation quite nicely: “I’m not sure whether it was guilt or generosity, but you found it hard not to put whatever it was into that plate when it was passed through at services.” Auxiliary church programs, such as talent shows or organized sports teams, served to strengthen the mission of the church through service and fellowship, as well as providing a place to interact with others with similar values. These programs, as Donor Q suggests, were often critical for forging a Christian identity. Donor T remembers the lessons of these activities well: Back at that point of time, the activity was around what’s called MYF, the Methodist Youth Fellowship. And they all taught you that you’re not the most important person in the world. And that there are a lot of people out there that have a lot of importance and they have some needs and what can we do to help them? As Donor Q recalls the many years of Church involvement, it is evident that the experience played an important role in life: “I went to Sunday school all those years and I was in all the activities that there were at the church. Our young people’s group both in junior high and high school both had a big social component that did good things, put on a talent show for example, that was to raise money and caring for underdog.” Church activities introduced Donor J to the workings of a “Dude Ranch” when he was affiliated with a church when his children were young. That kind of camping experience eventually led him to begin his own brand of Dude Ranch: We would do car washes and all this stuff that young people do in a church and raise money to finance the trip to the dude ranch. I’ve never forgotten

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it, and when the time came for us to figure out what we wanted to do as part of our life, the fact of having a ranch, it’s a little more complicated than that, that was a strong element, the fact that I had a wonderful, unforgettable experience with that, with my kids. Contributions were not only financial. Volunteer work, such as offering a particular talent or time are all aspects of giving as Donor Q comments: “if you are giving gifts, clothes, gifts should be shared with those who don’t have, were not given the same gifts. The gifts would be broad in the sense of the opportunity to do things that other people didn’t have and your intelligence and your personality and etc.…what you did with your gifts was important.” Church Support Indeed, Donor N, as the son of a minister, witnessed extraordinary generosity by members of his father’s congregation and believes that “People who supported the church during the Depression were probably some of the most magnanimous givers that we’ve seen in this century. Even though their gifts may have been small, but in context with the poverty around them, it was impressive.” Two of the donors mentioned a very specific philanthropic habit known as tithing in which an individual sets aside a certain percentage of income for charity. Tithing became a life-long way of sharing life’s riches, for Donor N, an ingrained habit straight from his father’s lap: “My father was a Baptist minister. He believed in the tithe, and he always told me ‘if you give the first 10 percent to God, he’ll make the 90 percent go much farther than you could ever make the 100 percent go.’” By tithing (especially to the church) one trusted that the church used the money wisely: Donor Q: “The church I grew up in, we learned very early that you gave money to the church and then the church did good things with it.” For Donor J, the pastoral support of two ministers during an especially painful period of his life, functions as a tangible reason to be generous: It would factor in on the giving back. When my first wife was dying, I knew two ministers, both Presbyterian in two different churches. It was very helpful in that whole experience, and I’ve never forgotten that. I’ve been very generous with both of those churches. Since the ministers are long gone. But the fact that they were there and went out of their way, it impressed me, but it was that they were a helping hand. You know, that’s one more avenue for me to give back. They were there in a time of need, more than I’d ever expected frankly. It was a three-year dreadful experience in Washington, but they were there.

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Does Christianity Encourage Generosity? While the relationship to the institutional church plays an important role, the impact of Christianity on habits of generosity was far more indirect than it was with the Jewish major donors. Christianity plays a “necessary but not sufficient” role in the philanthropic euqation. Donor A’s comment is revealing: So, I can’t say to you that it’s (religion) the driving pulse for either of us, on the other hand it’s certainly copasetic with the kind of instincts in some of the more personal views about life. So, I think there’s not any theological inconsistency but I don’t necessarily see it as theologically driven. The comment by Donor R echoes this theme: “I couldn’t make a direct connection. It’s one of the principles…I think the principles are very much the same.” While religion can serve as an important factor in promoting generosity, other factors must also be considered. Donor N and Donor Z agree, noting that personality also plays a key role: I’d like to think that the church has a lot to do with that (encouraging generosity), but you know, there are people in churches that are stingy. And there are people who are generous. They’re exposed to the same teachings and some respond and some don’t. (Donor N). Donor Z adds that a framework may be as equally important to understanding generosity: “But it is the model of thinking about giving to other people and certainly Christian religion supports that. How much people learn, I don’t know.” While the connection between religion and generosity is encouraged very specifically at churches, as Donor M notes, such consistency is an unknown factor for generosity to the University of Michigan: “Since I was going every week, and there was a weekly collection and I always put in; I would guess that probably pre-dates most of the things I did for Michigan …rather shaped it, or just happened to be there, I don’t know.” Such habits are aligned with a Christian worldview, as voiced by Donor L: Yes, of course, I think religion can be the basis of the reason for giving, in many regards and many respects, you know, that is the teaching of the church isn’t it? It’s better to give than to receive? So, I don’t think that that’s trite at all. But while habits can be encouraged and philosophies explored and explained, “it all depends.” As Donor R surveys the situation, he finds much discontinuity between behaviors inside and outside the church:

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I really can’t answer that because my observation would be to some extent, yeah, and to other extents, some of the most ungenerous people I know go to church every week, and their idea of generosity is when you’re in church it applies, and the minute you leave, they’ll cut in front of you, not let you out of the parking lot. I don’t know, it’s schizophrenic. I think people get… some people yes, and wonderfully so, and others I think their lives are compartmentalized. They believe in all this stuff when they’re in the building. THE NON-AFFILIATED The non-affiliated segment of the research sample is the group for which the interviewee had no current relationship with organized religion. The role of religion then, for this group, would seem rather obvious: it is virtually nonexistent. Upon closer examination, however, it becomes clear that each of the nonaffiliated major donors had been previously associated with a Protestant Christian denomination, and previous church affiliations ran a spectrum from tremendous involvement to little contact. The role of religion for the nonaffiliated seem falls into distinctive patterns which include parental influence, philosophical formation and spousal affiliation Parental Influence The transmission of values is certainly one aspect of parental role and guidance. One particularly interesting finding of this research was the singular effect that women have as the prime agent of imparting religion and religious values, including their affection for the institutional church. Across all denominations (including Judaism) mothers, grandmothers and wives were almost universally cited as role models who stressed the importance of religion and the values which it imparts. Donor Q: “I look back on my mother, she was forever quoting the Ten Commandments and especially ‘honoring your father and your mother.’ We heard that a lot.” Donor S recalls that: “My mother wasn’t that observant, but she just loved the religion, and made me feel a lot of pride about it. And in those days, some people would say that being Jewish wasn’t the greatest thing in the world. Because of my mother’s love and respect for the religion, I never felt uncomfortable.” Donor W, whose mother died when he was quite young, remembers that his mother “was a very strong believer” and credits her with his ability to be generous: “I think a lot of these things I owe to her. She did a tremendous amount of volunteer work. We didn’t have money, but she volunteered.” As mentioned previously, the values taught in churches are those lessons which parents want their children to value. So it stands to reason that after the children are grown, church attendance patterns may change. For Donor R,

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attending services seemed to be a perfunctory arrangement as a child: “I have no affiliation with any religion now, but when I was a kid, I went to church because that was the thing to do. I went to whatever church my parents went to, and not any more often than I could get away with.” “I don’t go to church at all. Not because I have anything against it…I love to go and hear a great sermon…” (Donor R). Donor E’s parents came from differing denominational backgrounds, and since they couldn’t decide between them which church the children should attend, they let the children decide: “the church with the best basketball team won.” Given that affiliation, it wasn’t surprising that he describes himself as a “CE” Christian: Christmas and Easter. Philosophical Formation Major donors often use religious language and concepts to frame their generosity. Even though they may no longer identify themselves as a practicing member of a denomination, several non-affiliated donors drew upon religious themes and prior affiliations when discussing their motivations for generosity. Donor K’s theological perspective—more accurately described as a personal philosophy— serves as an example of the formative influence of religion upon one’s philanthropy, independent of current affiliation. Donor K connects a concept of grace to philanthropy to Michigan: “I’m not a particularly religious person, but I often talk to my scholarship recipients about a concept of grace and I do believe in grace which is that you are blessed in a way that often has zero to do with you.” From this particular philosophy, there is a logical and direct connection to his philanthropy to higher education: “I feel that I have this same sense of obligation to provide grants to others, and the way of which I’ve chosen to do it as far as the University is concerned is through the avenue of trying to teach, and secondly giving the scholarships.” Women and Religion Women serve as the backbone of many congregations through their volunteer efforts and in some denominations, a clerical role. The recollections of Donor L highlight the unique role of women: “my grandmother was very close to the Methodist Church and as small children, we always went to Sunday school and so fourth, and she was generous. They had no money of course, but she was generous of her time.” Indeed, when it comes to religion, women seem to take the lead in their families. Several of the male interviewees described their Church affiliation as dependent upon their wives—Donor H serves as an example: “My wife is Presbyterian so I do go to church with her, but I don’t really have any strong affiliation. I used to belong to the Unitarian Church for quite a while. My participation in the Presbyterian Church is really more dependent on my wife.”

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Women as spouses and partners have an extremely strong impact on the religious climate in the family. CONCLUSION Based on the findings about the role of religion in the lives of major donors, the definition of religion as the “mother of philanthropy” is quite accurate in that the practice and philosophy of Judeo-Christianity inculcates as well as supports notions of benevolence and generosity through stories and examples. The very practical experience of giving, e.g. money in the collection basket, donating to Israel, sets the stage for future giving as the example of John Rockefeller made clear. While not all of the philanthropists cited religion as part of their motivations, it was amazing to hear that even among the non-affiliated, their religious training in their youth was tremendously important in the formation of their personal life’s philosophy, of which generosity is clearly a factor. The role of religion in the lives of the sample who identified themselves as Jewish might best be described as a confluence of factors unique for its philanthropic tradition. Judaism is both a religion as well as an ethnicity: a complex and dynamic amalgam whose definition defies simplistic notions based solely on ritualistic devotions. Jewish theology describes God acting in history, as codified in the Torah and other holy books. Within the Torah are detailed injunctions towards helping those in need, first your own, then others. These commandments are centrifugal to how Jews carry out their interpretations of God’s law. Habits of giving were taught at a very early age, particularly at home, and many of the sample recall contributing to the puska boxes. The drive to establish a homeland in Israel and the crisis of the Holocaust served as cohesive agents in the Jewish community. Individuals of this generation learned first hand the importance and impact of individual generosity. As a minority group consistently faced with extraordinary hostility, Jews literally had to fend for themselves. An outgrowth of this necessity can be found in the networks of affiliated organizations that initially compensated for services unavailable to the Jewish community. These organizations now play a vital role in Jewish life, where opportunities for volunteer leadership and fund-raising experience are plentiful. Finally, within the Jewish home and community, intellectual life is greatly revered. Understanding and interpreting the deistic dynamic demands a mind capable of historical analysis, penetrating nuance, and an appreciation of scholarly endeavors. Given this natural inclination toward synthetic intellectualism, higher education is a revered commodity. Philanthropy to higher education is in many respects a culmination of Jewish life and community practice. Couple these group attributes with feelings of identification and particular gratitude toward institutions that enabled Jews of an early generation to overcome societal prejudice, the mixture portends a philanthropic phenomenon.

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For the Christian sample three major themes emerged which help to answer the role of religion in their lives: First, the values learned at Church were fundamental to a particular perspective on the world. Decidedly Christian themes, ideas and apothegms helped to form an individual’s conscience. Stories and parables extolling generosity were very much part of the church experience. Parents found the moral perspectives reinforced at church to be important as the children were maturing. Second, habits of giving were initiated or re-enforced at Church, and many donors recalled these “drops in the bucket” as their first act of philanthropy. Finally, church programs reinforced generosity themes in their religious services and helped to establish programs where individuals had opportunities to embody the preaching of goodwill. It was clear from the interviews that while the non-affiliate group stands outside or beyond once traditional demarcations of a particular denomination, each had been influenced in some degree by religion. The concept of grace, for example, emanates from a language very much affiliated with institutional Christianity. It seems that the impact of affiliation, if potent only during childhood, leaves a strong residual patina to one’s philosophy of life and generosity. Only after an understanding of how an individual experiences and understands religion can one then comprehend and appreciated how religion may have or have not been involved in values which shape philanthropic motivation.

CHAPTER 6 Philanthropic Themes and Poetic Theorizing

INTRODUCTION As a result of my grandmother’s closeness to the Methodist Church and her inculcation of her ideals into and standards and given to me as a young child during those extremely formative years that recently, I guess two years ago, I drove down to the Methodist Church in (Small Town, U.S.A.) I have no relatives there, know very few people there anymore, but I drove down one Sunday morning, entered the church parking lot. After the services were over, the minister came out. I introduced myself to him and said my grandmother used to attend this church and I’d like to make a contribution to the church. He said “Fine, come into my office.” We went back in the church and be said “Well, did you want to do a cash contribution or did you want to give me a check or what?” And I said “Well, I had something in mind of about six figures.” He said “Six figures? Do you mind if I sit down?” So, we discussed it and be said “I really can’t think of anything except a new boiler that we need.” I said “Well, I don’t think that’s a proper memorial for my grandmother, but why don’t you get together with the trustees and decide what you might like to have and come to (Donor’s home town) and see me.” So they did, three of them came, and said they really didn’t know where to start. I said “Well, why don’t you do this: I’m going to give you some money to hire an architect and draw a master plan for the optimum that you would like at that church. Then perhaps I can pick out one portion of it, and have a model made so that other people might pick out another portion of it over the years, so that at some point in time you can reach that optimum.” They proceeded and set up committees in the church for the choir, for the Sunday school, for the outside activities, for every conceivable thing. A number of committees were set up to make this

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study and they spent probably a year doing it. Then they had the architect draw up plans that would optimize everything. So we, (my wife and I) went down to (Small Town, U.S.A.) to see the plans and to view the old church and so forth and what they intended to do. They made the presentation, the architect made the presentation and we would pick out some portion thereof. Driving back to (Donor’s home town), I said to my wife, “Well what part do you think we should do?” (The whole package came to about 1 million and halfdollars, I guess.) And she said, “Why don’t you do the whole thing?” So, needless to say, when your wife is that dogmatic, you don’t argue with her. I called the Chairman back and told him we decided to do the whole thing. He was also spellbound, I guess. We went down to the dedication last September and it’s a just a wonderful job they’ve done and the people there have been so appreciative. It’s very heartwarming to realize that you’ve been able to contribute to someone else’s enjoyment and comfort. The preceding philanthropic tale in which Donor L relates a personal account of his and his wife’s significant gift to the Small Town, U.S.A. Methodist Church in many ways captures the complexity of the role of religion in the lives of major donors to the University of Michigan. On a purely descriptive level, this act of generosity to a religious organization is quite independent of philanthropy to the University of Michigan. Yet a more penetrating analysis might suggest that the University participates substantially in this gift, for the values that the church helped to instill are rooted in the very same conscience that decided on philanthropy to the University of Michigan. The process of giving and the subsequent feelings of enjoyment partake of a “good giving experience” which serves to reinforce and to set the stage for the likelihood of additional philanthropy to Michigan, as well as other organizations. In this chapter, I interpret the salient themes and stories, like Donor L’s, which emerged during the research process, seeking to interpret the emergent themes in a way that communicates understanding of the interviewees as case study data analysis intends. The themes which I chose to interpret were selected for one of several reasons: the volume of mentions, the intensity of the mention (as determined by length of discussion), or the significance of the mention as they relate to the central research question. In section one, I discuss the philosophical and cultural characteristics of one institution of higher education (the University of Michigan) which create an environment which permits philanthropy to flourish. In section two, I consider specific the advancement programs which operationalize the process of philanthropy; in the third section, I interpret the important stories of family life and community relations and various emotions which influence major donor philanthropy. And in section four, I construct a theory concerning the influence

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of religion and the ways in which it might relate to major donor philanthropy to higher education. EMERGENT THEMES: INSTITUTIONAL CHARACTERISTICS The Role of the University in Society The British poet John Masefield, in referring to universities, wrote that there were “few things on earth more beautiful.” While such a roseate perspective may sound exaggerated, I found this view to be normative among those I interviewed. The expectations which individuals had for higher education in general and the University of Michigan in particular pointed to an exalted—if not sacred— understanding of the University. Higher education not only provides the specific tools by which individuals can contribute to society, but also seems to incarnate the highest aspirations of the nation and society. It wasn’t surprising, then, that many major donors believed that a University education should teach values “of the human spirit,” encourage diversity, help to eliminate prejudice, and be “a very democratic place.” In contrast to previous research (Ostrower, 1995), many of the major donors believed so strongly that education is a “critical value” that they support a variety of educational institutions, in addition to Michigan; this was particularly true of the non-alumni. Such support of the many facets of higher education may be indicative of a constituency which values the public nature of the institution, where higher education is recognized as a common good which should be available to all, not just for the financially privileged. The aspirations that donors held for the university weren’t necessarily corroborated with empirical evidence about the university. Major donor concerns about the university were often borne from their own experiences some time ago, highlighting a discrepancy between perception of the institution and the reality of contemporary institutional practice. One donor, for example, was particularly interested in the teaching of ethics and just assumed that it was part of the undergraduate curriculum (which it is not). The University of Michigan’s niche in the American higher education landscape is to straddle two dissimilar worlds and audiences: the public domain (particularly for residents of the State of Michigan) and the arena of private higher education. Retaining a “singular presence” within the state and throughout the world is a defining attribute of the University. Individuals certainly agreed that the University must provide an education for the citizenry of the State of Michigan and the University has historically filled this role admirably. For one donor, the University was a source of immense pride in the otherwise bleak economic landscape of the 1980’s and so contributing to the University added an element of cachet to the State. And for another donor, the

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University’s extraordinary presence in Ann Arbor and its subsequent impact in the community was sufficient to warrant substantial contributions. While major donors acknowledged the University as a public institution, they expected it to compete in reputation and quality with the best of private institutions. Indeed many perceived the University as both a national and an international institution, with constituencies ranging far beyond local boundaries. One major donor bluntly remarked: “I don’t really care one bit about the State of Michigan,” suggesting geographic diversity must be characteristic of a national institution. How this role is realized, given the tensions between the State legislature and expectations for an all-encompassing excellence, will be an ongoing challenge. Indeed, there seems to be much ambivalence in recognizing the polarities that the University is forced to reconcile. A Tradition of Quality Education Virtually all graduates of the University who were interviewed for this study enjoyed their academic experiences. Such consistency of excellence is a tribute to the faculty and administrative leadership of the University. Donor C’s commentary that a particular professor was great because “he taught us how to think” exemplifies the potency of a true intellectual experience (and the importance of good teaching). Part of the motivations for some major donors included appreciation for the role of faculty, as Donor L recounts: “They were my teachers, and that’s where I learned what I did in order to succeed as I have.” Faculty who served as mentors often spelled the difference between an extraordinary experience and a good one. Expectations of institutional quality emerged frequently with one donor remarking “I’m not sure if I’d give if the University were not so highly recognized.” Publicized research was alluded to as an indicator of institutional quality. There is an explicit expectation among some donors that the University’s standing should enhance their personal reputation. Several major donors felt strongly that the educational experience entails more than just academic pursuits, as Donor N articulated: “Knowledge doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Knowledge exists in society, in community.” While previous research confirms the importance of a strong academic experience, this study suggests that the non-academic setting provides unique opportunities for substantial interpersonal engagements. The intellectual experience seemed to pale in comparison to the opportunities presented in non-classroom arenas. Central to the community experience were interactions in the residence halls, student government and overall student life experiences. Donor Q recalled that she (and her future husband) were active in student government and other social activities and thus “I really felt I feasted at Ann Arbor, so how could you not love it?” Extracurricular experiences provide leadership opportunities simply unavailable in a classroom setting. These extracurricular experiences were targeted areas for philanthropy, as in the case of Donor M who recognized that

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these activities are “an extremely beneficial supplement to what anybody learns in the classroom. I look at it like real life experience.” Issues surrounding affirmative action and diversity emerged as an important topic, especially with the University of Michigan’s defense of its race-sensitive admissions policies/practices. Given that all of the interviewees were of a particularly high socio-economic background, I naively assumed that they would disagree with the University’s stance. In fact, the range of opinion was fairly broad. Several individuals mentioned, for example, that exposure to racial and ethnic diversity as (largely experienced through extracurricular experiences and residential life) made their undergraduate experiences richer; these donors were very supportive of the University’s policy of allowing race to enter the admissions process as a factor in determining acceptance. For those who took issue with the University’s position, the concern was voiced on two primary fronts: children (legacies) and the concept of meritocracy. The legacy issue was straightforward: their children should not be disadvantaged because they are white and come from a financially privileged background. The issue of “merit” was more complicated. The notion of the University as a place of “meritocracy” seems to revolve around justifications of proven intellectual achievement, as opposed to intellectual potential. The concept of “meritocracy” also encompasses the idea of equal access, independent of race, with one donor remarking that he believed in giving everyone a fair chance but “not pushing someone in through the door.” Interestingly, those individuals who took issue with the University’s position were not among those who referenced positive inter-racial and interethnic interactions during their stay at Michigan. But even among those who differed philosophically with University policy, there was the acknowledgment that the University was very generous to them (in the form of scholarships) and that without this kind of assistance, their education would have been next to impossible. In many ways, the topic of diversity is a cogent example of how major donors often have a very limited understanding of the University’s philosophy of education and institutional priorities. Contemporary American society places a great deal of importance on institutional affiliations, with special allegiances given to one’s alma mater. DeToqueville noticed this phenomenon of institutional identification during his journeys throughout early America in 1831. Collegiate identification is one that Ostrower (1995), points to as a hallmark of American higher education: Educational experiences may initially appear to differ from other influences on philanthropy such as gender and ethnicity. Yet there is a similarity, related to donors’ viewing their schools as central to making them who and what they are. The common link is that educational background also becomes connected to donors’ sense of identity, which is reflected in their philanthropic priorities (p. 89).

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While there are many individuals who have an affiliation with the University, those who have an emotional connection powerfully identify with the University and consequently donate more than those without such ties. The strength of such identification was confirmed in the remembrances of many of the interviewees. Donor J is an example as he recalls sitting in the football stadium feeling that “this was my school” with obvious pride and a sense of “ownership.” Another donor concurred concisely: “I give because I attended there.” Actual physical attendance seems to impact institutional identification, and attendance of family members reinforces feelings of identification and concurrent institutional “loyalty.” In several instances, issues of institutional excellence seemed to be reflective of personal identification concerns as well. This study also shows that nonalumni (friends) donors exhibit a gratitude for the institution more for its over-arching role in society and in the community, as opposed to an education that they specifically received. Negative attributes of the affiliation/identification issue are scenarios marked by an excessive over-identification with the institution. In these cases, emotional involvement produces inappropriately high expectations which cannot easily be met, and these expectations undermine the potential for ongoing support. In the following section I present my interpretations of commentary about the University of Michigan’s fund raising (development) efforts. EMERGENT THEMES: INSTITUTIONAL ENDEAVORS FAVORING PHILANTHROPY Development Programs and Professional Service This study confirms that major donors expect (and enjoy) volunteering for the organization that they support. As Donor A remarks, “Money follows time and interest.” The roles of executive committees, specifically at professional schools within the University, are outstanding avenues for executive involvement. Functioning as advisory boards, members have the opportunity to interact with institutional leadership, increasing the “insider” feeling. Members of advisory boards also come to understand the institution’s strengths and weaknesses from the vantage point of some one whom, with sufficient funds, can influence change. In these venues, institutional need is viewed as an opportunity for philanthropic action, not necessarily an indication of programmatic mediocrity. Stewardship of gifts is a sine qua non for continued major donor involvement. Detailed and accurate accounting of how their gifts are used, as well as opportunities to meet with recipients of their philanthropy, are examples of good stewardship techniques. Periodic updates which answer Donor H’s comment: “I want to know what the hell happens to my money” reflect how well an institution is disseminating a major donor’s gifts. Advancement offices need to be vigilant in keeping major donors satisfactorily informed about the uses of their gifts.

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Creating philanthropists is an attribute of a professional development program. A good example the transformation of a donor to a philanthropist was highlighted in the example of Donor S who wrote the Dean to thank him for encouraging the donor to reach new levels of giving. Smaller gifts play a much larger symbolic role than they are often credited for. This was exemplified by donors’ mentions of a “habit of giving”, suggesting that major gift philanthropy draws from a pattern of philanthropic behavior. Individuals with substantial wealth bring to their involvement their particular talents, interests, personalities and money, as well as expectations of professionalism. While professionalism is assumed of faculty and university leadership, it also extends to ordinary interactions with all levels of university administration. Major donors expect consistent, high quality performance and interaction from everyone with whom them interact with at the University. This is especially true of the University’s leadership. Institutional leaders, especially the President, must have the personality and vision which wins respect from the University’s philanthropists. In order to operate in an engagement mode that meets expected levels of service, institutions must provide administrative infrastructure reflective of executive expectations. When Donor J remarked that, “I tried to give to this organization, but they did it their way, not mine” he was alluding to a level of competency that not all staffs and institutions possess. Thus the comment by Donor G, “You don’t know how hard it is to give away money” reflects demands for professionalism and the inability of many non-profits to provide this appropriate level of service. (It is precisely at this juncture of executive expectations and institutional capacity that elite higher education, with staff and resources, are able to service the major donors to their satisfaction). When one brings to their philanthropy expectations of high performance, including personal involvement and detailed reporting procedures, it does indeed become “difficult” to give money. Donor J’s mentioning “When I gave to Michigan, they knew how to handle me” reflects an institutional ability to deliver appropriate (and expected) donor service. Therefore, an institution’s ability to identify, to recruit, to motivate and to solicit large gifts depends on a number of institutional factors, not the least of which is the financial capacity to underwrite advancement programs. Appropriate budgetary support enables the advancement department to hire and to train individuals with the interpersonal skills necessary to work with highachieving millionaires. Institutional effort, as defined by overall support of advancement programs (including integration of these programs into the full complement of university administration) must be viewed vís-a-vís major donor expectations of administrative service. Advancement programs, particularly major gifts programs, yield their full fi nancial capacity when philanthropic inclination is aligned with professional engagement.

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Interest Driven Philanthropy Specialized university functions and programs served as compelling reasons to contribute and in many respects, the fact that the University had the programs in which the donor was interested in funding is more than just a pleasant coincidence. For example, Donor J was interested in battling cancer, and the “University of Michigan was a convenient body that combined that opportunity (with feelings of payback, etc.).” The leadership opportunities afforded by the University’s Marching Band, as well as the University’s Medical Center’s AIDS Research facilities, are distinctive opportunities that few other institutions can replicate. By dint of the University’s size and its attendant functions, there are a plethora of opportunities for philanthropy. However, it was remarkable to hear one major donor voice absolutely no interest in the academic programs of the University: “The university per se has never been the driving force for me…if I was giving to a general appeal to the University of Michigan, I don’t know whether I would give anything.” Because the donor’s gifts are restricted to auxiliary university programs, the academic enterprise almost never enters into the process. For one donor the University was a convenient (and respectable) storehouse for an art collection. Once the University agreed to accept the gift, then the Donor’s relationship to the University essentially began. Indeed, gifts are often made not in response to the University’s needs or mission, but out of sheer convenience to the donor. One particularly noteworthy mention was the frequency with which major donors cited their being the initiator of the gift dialogue with the University. “I would say most of (my gifts) has been my (own) self-generation…a lot of times I would identify something that I wanted to get done” (Donor M). I surmise that this was the case because while the University constituency is perhaps the largest alumni/ae group in the country, the Development office has been historically very leanly staffed, particularly in terms of University fund-raising capacity. The Major DonorÐMajor Gifts Officer Relationship The relationship between the major donors and the development officers to whom they are assigned appeared to be quite positive. The reason for such strong rapport may lie in the personalities of both the donors and the officers, which is enhanced by the shared sense of being involved in a common, worthwhile endeavor. Donor E voiced this perspective when she mentioned how much she enjoyed working with a particular development officer and how important those gift officers were to the philanthropic process: “Your development people are very instrumental.” Donor C raved about the quality work of the officer who was initially assigned to him. Conversely, poorly skilled officers can negatively impact the relationship. The expectations of some donors are so many and so detailed that few institutions would be able to respond to such demands: “I must tell you I was

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annoyed that no one at that time showed up either from development or something and took some pictures of the occasion or maybe even had a tape.” While a development officer at the University had the professional expertise to re-engage the donor in the life of the university, it is often difficult to continue these levels of expertise, given the lack of trained professionals, the continuing problems of resource allocation and the constant employee turn-over. The comments of one Donor seem to sum up the administrative quandary of recruitment and retention: “A lot of fundraising in America goes wrong (when it loses) that personal touch.” While the topic of “turnover” is of constant concern for heads of development offices, it seems that this was not much of a concern for the major donors, so long as the replacement officer is equally as effective as the previous one(s). The issue of donor hypocrisy was evidenced in a discussion with one major gifts officer who believed that the donor had a thinly veiled agenda for selfpromotion and tacit expectations of social interaction with the elites of the University community. The development officer’s comment that “Frankly, I find these people repulsive” highlights the professional awkwardness that can exist when a development officer, for the good of the institution, must cater to individuals who harbor questionable motivations or distasteful personalities. EMERGENT THEMES: EXPERIENCES OF GENEROSITY Autobiographical Forces and Attendant Attitudes As reflective of the research on empathy and altruism, this study confirms that family atmosphere does impact an individual’s sense of belonging and engagement in the world. Coupled with teaching specifically about generosity and providing role models for such generosity and a sense of sharing, the family environs were the locus of future philanthropic impulses. While there were a few examples of major philanthropy, e.g., paying for the college education of kids in the neighborhood, more often there were examples of much smaller acts of kindness. In particular, role models for every-day kindness were cited as critical in conveying the importance of generosity. In discussing their youth, I was struck by the consistently supportive home environments from which the major donors came. Even with (or perhaps because of) very difficult economic and social times, the donors seemed to have an extraordinary amount of “emotional wealth” from their families and communities. In fact, the majority of this sample did not come from wealthy backgrounds (although some certainly did) virtually all came from families which were considered “tightly knit.” While families were mentioned as playing a pivotal role in providing and nurturing a sense of compassion, the local community embodied a familial role

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as well. Individuals, often as members of a religious community, participated in projects to support each other, helping to ease the pain and suffering of those less fortunate. Such community spirit engendered hospitality—unknown neighbors would stop into another’s home for a meal—or have the opportunity to get to know neighbor’s children who would one day be given the gift of a college education. The sample came of age in some of the most troublesome decades of American history. Precisely because of these strenuous times, the major donors may have gained insight into how they wished to engage in the world, and by virtue of economic and interpersonal hardships, learned the value of appreciation. One has to wonder whether cataclysmic events are important for altruism and philanthropy to flourish. Much like a forest fire devastates the land and in turn the ecological cycle begins the process anew, ravages of the heart may be necessary for an individual to develop an abiding sense of gratitude. The Depression and World Wars were times of immense struggle. These difficult scenarios intertwine with philanthropy in at least two manners: Money is taken very seriously, and giving it away requires much thought and calculation. A “Depression Mentality” honors thrift and, given such habits, “wealth consciousness” (an individual’s assessment of his or her own wealth) seemed to be very great for those interviewed, e.g., “We just can’t spend all of this money with our Depression mentality.” Since “the threat was always there”—the threat of poverty, of being evicted from one’s home, of not having enough to eat—this reality affected not only how hard one had to work, but the concurrent sense of thrift and delayed gratification. When economic and social conditions were bleak, nothing was taken for granted, “no one owed anyone a living.” When opportunities such as attending college were offered, particularly at a respected institution like Michigan, there was often an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Even those who came from wealthy backgrounds recognized how fortunate they had been. Interestingly, the GI Bill of Rights was interpreted as an extraordi nary opportunity, not an inherent privilege of citizenship. The Impact of Scholarships The research findings uncovered both the practical as well as the psychological (emotional) importance of scholarships. Since many of the major donors came from very modest financial means, scholarships afforded educational opportunities reserved at that time for the very wealthy. The subsequent feelings of gratitude resonate with many, as one donor recounted, “The dollars aren’t important, but the concept and the relativity is very important and without that (scholarship) I couldn’t have done it.” Being awarded a scholarship plays as a catalyst in the emotion of gratitude. For example, even though all of Donor J’s philanthropy had been earmarked for medical research, he still comments that: “I think I would have recognized the

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university…for a very simple reason: I couldn’t have gone to undergraduate school…without the benefit of the scholarship.” Virtually all of those major donors who spoke of “pay-back” had received financial assistance and had come from monetarily difficult backgrounds. Scholarships seem to serve as a form of institutional investment in individuals, and given that investment a form “payback” was considered in order. Receiving a scholarship, in many respects, serves as a young person’s first practical experience of the effects of major donor philanthropy. Attitudinal forces create a philanthropic synergy that propels a major donor in the philanthropic decision-making process. Several of the major donors referenced specific emotions which assisted in compelling them to engage in philanthropy. The emotions of gratitude, payback, obligation, selfishness and guilt represent an array of attitudes, each with its own perspective. Gratitude seems to emanate from some experience of economic hardship. Those major donors who spoke of their feelings of gratitude and appreciation of the affordable nature of their education were those who had significant financial difficulties or hardships. The emotion of payback, while linked to gratitude, seems to represent an institutional orientation or direction. Without, for example, the educational experience of the University of Michigan and its attendant benefits, individuals believed they would not “be where I am today.” The notion of “re-payment” was linked to gratitude and seems to an example of individual— institutional reciprocation, or a form of an exchange. Those donors who voiced a sense of “obligation” and “compassion” were invariably those who were often heavily influenced by religion. In these cases, there was little calculation in terms of their philanthropy; it was on automatic pilot. As Donor Q voices: “It’s those things I believe in strongly: sharing what I have, returning those gifts that were given to me.” The emotion of selfishness was viewed from several vantage points. For one individual, selfishness was an aspect of ego-enhancement. Donor I voiced the emotion of selfishness in a straightforward manner, with a hint of embarrassment, as she described wanting others to think highly of Michigan and thereby think highly of her. Closely identified with the institution, this donor interpreted institutional prestige as related to her personal reputation. Donor S joyfully told of his being “selfish” because he received such satisfaction from giving that immersion in this philanthropic pleasure offered wonderful feelings. The interpretation of the emotion of “selfishness” seems to depend on the individual and the context in which they are using the term. Finally, the emotion of guilt is usually understood as a negative attribute, a paralyzing adherence to an expectation of some imposed moral requirement. Conversely, a healthy sense of guilt indicates that an individual has a properly formed conscience in which one can assess the disparities in human existence and the corresponding need for a level of justice (Hoffman, 1984). Donor J spoke of “allaying guilt” almost as a form of pay-back and reciprocation. A balanced

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sense of guilt seems to be an aspect of the need to “payback” so that others may somehow enjoy and partake of life’s special opportunities. EMERGENT THEMES: RELIGION AND PHILANTHROPY Denominationally Speaking The historical and cultural trends that construed initial experiences of religious identity in twentieth century America were categorized by denominational affiliation (in this instance, Jewish, Protestant and Catholic) (Herberg, 1955). In a generation strongly demarcated by such fault lines, religion provided a foray into the world of philanthropy through community engagement, specific practices of giving, conscience formation, as well as a distinctive set of values, historical referents and interpretations of experience. Those who were not affiliated with any denomination also offer an array of distinctive insights into how religion has or has not impacted their motivations for philanthropy. In describing religion, Clifford Geertz asserts that religion “denotes an historically transmitted pattern of meanings embodied in symbols, a system of inherited conceptions expressed in symbolic forms by means of which men (and women) communicate, perpetuate, and develop their knowledge about and attitudes towards life” (Geertz, 1973, p. 89). Following the path Geertz has laid out, this study views religion through the interpretations of these patterns of meaning which are essentially subjective, and a researcher’s ability to accurately personal constructs must necessarily be relegated to the language which surfaced during the interview. Generic interpretations of religion could overlook this specificity and therefore be inadequate. Ethnic Affiliation The study showed how ethnicity greatly intensifies the interpretation of religious philosophies and experiences. Ethnic identification influences a composite worldview and, when such ethnicity is bound up with religion, then understandings of generosity (and philanthropy) become visceral. Ethnicity, as a composite of family, community, religion and language, factors into a source of identity. Parsons (1975) describes ethnicity as “the organization of plural persons into distinctive groups and…of solidarity and the loyalties of individual members to such groups” (p. 53). Glazer and Moynihan (1975) add that ethnic groups are “forms of social life that are capable of renewing and transforming themselves” (p. 4). While ethnicity is a matter of biological inheritance, one can also achieve a similar measure of identification by strong affiliation with a particular group. Such affiliational impact depends on the measure to which an individual is in

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contact with and adopts the values and ideals of a particular cultural community. Strong ethnic affiliation allows for an intergenerational transmission of an ethical and moral worldview. This is significant for notions of philanthropy, for it seems that generosity can be taught and mirrored through cultural and ethnic enclaves. Religion’s ability to act as a motivator is greatly increased when an individual’s religion retains an ethnic component. Thus, the stronger the ethnic identification, the more likely the role of religion will be an important aspect of an individual’s philanthropy. Case Study: The Intersection of Religion and Ethnicity The role of religion in the life of Donor O, a sixty-seven year old president of a service financial corporation, exemplifies the complexity of interpreting the role and ultimately the impact of religion as a force for motivation. Specifically, the story behind Donor O’s motivations for philanthropy to the University of Michigan is an example of how a given religion—with a powerful ethnic identification—is able to promote generosity and thus an aspect of philanthropy. When discussing his upbringing, he describes an ethnic Protestantism that inculcated many of the values he attributes with his philanthropy to Michigan. Growing up in the mid-west, Donor O was one of four children, the son of hard working, devout Christian Reform parents. His dad was employed by an ice company during the Depression and “since that was the only means of refrigeration, ice was a necessity. Ice companies still continued to function pretty normally so he (dad) kept his job…and so we lived through the Depression of the 1930’s much better than most people did.” The environment in the family “was a warm, comfortable family relationship, but not as intimate as a lot of other families that I have seen.” Discipline and hard work permeated the environment: “But they (parents) were strict with the kids. My dad on occasion had a stick that was probably the consistency of a yardstick. Little flexibility, but a whack on the butt stung, and he didn’t use it very often.” Family, faith and community were all remarkably intertwined. The Dutch culture “taught (us) to be responsible for our own actions. We were encouraged to earn our own money. I started delivering papers when I was seven years old. We were encouraged to save money, not to spend everything.” Donor O’s family life was immersed in the Christian Reformed Church, a Protestant denomination, which, as an offshoot of the Dutch Reformed Church “kept strictly to the doctrinal standards of the Dutch Reformation” (Noll, 1992, p. 482). Donor O, reflects that “we had this closed society, and you were Christian Reformed or you were ‘of the world’. He describes the Christian Reformed world as follows: We had our own school system from kindergarten through Calvin College. We had church services and some churches even had pre-services. They’d

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have an English service in the morning, a Dutch service in the afternoon and an English service at night. And then we had Boys Society or Young Men’s Society or Girls Society and Young Ladies Society, depending on your sex. We had catechism and that was generally on Saturday morning. Church and Family Inspired Lessons of Generosity Donor O’s father was also a church deacon whose role was “to deal with the problems of the poor in the church and to make sure that their needs were taken care of, and my dad was, practically, it seemed like he was always the deacon of the church. I’m sure he wasn’t constantly, but he certainly spent many years of his life as the deacon of the church and helping out on the welfare of the poor of the church.” Donor O’s mother also exhibited similar concern and generosity for the poor, as he recounts that “I’d be home in the summertime, and my mother would answer the door, and (a stranger) was looking for something to eat. And she would let him in even, and serve him some food. To someone she didn’t even know.” Since Donor O’s parents were so heavily involved with the ministry of the Church, his parents naturally involved him as well: “I can remember bringing groceries over to the home of people who were church members, but were really having a hard time.” Certainly the CRC, coupled with the family environment, immersed Donor O in an enclave which very clearly spelled out moral and ethical precepts: “The attitude was one of hard work and sharing, the Golden Rule is important.” The philosophies inculcated from Donor O’s environment embedded in him “this concept of giving and of giving back because you have, you have received yourself and you have been rewarded and you should share those rewards, I think plays a big part today in my attitude.” Much of Donor O’s attitude reflects a particular understanding of the role of money and its both positive and negative attributes: Another part of that I think although (is) “It’s okay to become wealthy, but the love of money is the root of all evil.” I mean, this is the way we were brought up so that I never had a goal of reaching a certain net worth, I never had a goal of becoming wealthy…and (if) you really didn’t have any intention of being that wealthy, it’s a whole heck of a lot easier to share what you’re getting. My parents felt that they had so much in effect comparatively that they were willing to share. So that’s part of the whole thing I’m sure as to why I feel the way I do. Value Retention Donor O sums up the influence of his early youth and how it impacted his present day philanthropy to Michigan as “I really think that these things are taught to you when you are young, or from the time you’re young, can have a big impact… I

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never had a desire to become a wealthy person. I will undoubtedly wind up giving away eventually, when I finally die, 90 percent of my net worth.” As the story of Donor O makes clear, religion, when coupled with ethnicity, can have a phenomenal impact on the way in which major donors conceive of how they understand their place in the world. But as the interviewees in this research have shown, the kinds of impact religion can have depends on individual personalities, life experiences, family upbringing, marriage and a host of other factors. While he eventually disaffiliated himself from the religion of his youth and early adulthood, Donor O harbors little animosity and, in fact, seemed to greatly respect the particular brand of familial, cultural and religious formation. THE CROSSROADS OF CHURCH AND ALMA MATER The statistics cited in Chapter One pointed to a move from religiouslybased giving to philanthropy to higher education, particularly among major donors (Hodgkinson, 1990; Worth, 1993). This can now be explained through an analysis of several of the emergent themes in this study. Since the major donors interviewed were raised in a denominationally— demarcated society, I present my interpretation for the shift from organized religion toward higher education among major donors through the lens of Judaism, Christianity and the non-affiliation. Judaism as an Ethnicity The power of Judaism in forging a philanthropic mindset serves as an example of the dynamic of religion that acts concurrently as an ethnicity. In recognizing Judaism as an ethnic identification as well as a religious one, one can therein locate a primary source for its ability to encourage generosity. Clearly for Jews, giving is not solely an act of kindness, but is rather rooted in a concept of justice, a demand for righteous action: “Sharing…its’s just part of our value system. People need your help. You’ve got something, you’ve got to share it. I mean it can be chicken soup, or it can be money or it can be clothes.” (Donor G). While theological philosophies fortify Judaism’s understanding of justice, the very pro-active nature of Jewish affiliation encourages the trans formation of theory into action. The injustices suffered by the Jewish community in the early part of the twentieth century welded the already visceral attraction of generosity into a necessity. In these tragedies the Jewish community experienced first-hand the importance of philanthropy. The Holocaust and subsequent founding of the State of Israel demanded compassion and sacrifice by those who were literally still alive. Donor B cited Woody Allen’s movie, “Radio Days” as an example of the way in which the Jewish community responded to the extraordinary need of the Jewish community: “Part of the scene is that he goes around with a tin can for the Jewish National Fund to support resettlement in Israel. That was very

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common. There was always a cause that we grew up being associated with. Valid or Invalid.” Unlike most Christian denominations, Judaism serves as a biological, cultural and theological inheritance. The traditions of Judaism virtually compel individuals to engage in some aspect of generosity. Such powerful ethnic affiliation has the potential to impact motivations for philanthropy quite unlike any other religious or cultural force. And while individuals choose to retain aspects of such an ethos and ethic, the likelihood is great that at least some aspect of Jewish identity and culture, as it relates to generosity, will be evidenced. The Jewish intellectual tradition places great value on higher education, to the obvious benefit of educational institutions. Donor G, for example, pointed out that between 30 to 40 per cent of the University’s Capital Campaign came from Jewish sources, a population at the University of approximately five per cent. Christianity and Compassion Christianity’s ability to inspire generosity is achieved primarily through individual conscience formation where habits and traditions associated with giving are often related to the institutional church as well as to the home environment. Christianity’s effect on motivations for philanthropy can best be described as indirect or moderate because the potency of the message seems to be dissipated when it rests so heavily with the institution. The emphasis in Christianity is focused on the congregational level, and congregations are just not as capable as the home environment to inculcate philanthropic values and experiences. This contrasts with Jewish culture where one learns about performing a “mitzvah” or charitable acts primarily in the home. In addition, there is a profound uneasiness with issues concerning money and religion, as explicitly found in the Gospel narratives. The saying reiterated by Donor S, that “Money is the root of all evil” is very much in keeping with Christ’s perspective on financial wealth as portrayed in the Gospels. Donor A’s remark captures this ambivalent role of Christianity and philanthropy well: “I can’t say to you that it’s (religion) the driving pulse, on the other hand, it’s certainly copasetic.” The story of Donor S’s generosity serves as an example of the power of religion and ethnicity upon understandings of generosity. Donor S’s philosophy of giving correlates exactly with the teachings of the Reform Church and the Dutch community in which he grew up. The impact of this ethnic Christianity continues to shape his conscious even today, more than thirty years after he publicly left the Church. Additionally, one could certainly describe Donor N’s upbringing, as the son of a Baptist minister, as an ethnicity, and the Baptist perspective on life thoroughly pervaded his entire youth. And it was he who very specifically adopted the Christian tradition of tithing as a way of incorporating Christ-ian religious tenets into his philanthropy. This concept of tithing fuels his philanthropy to Michigan.

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Given that Catholics comprise the largest single Christian denomination in the United States, the near absence of Catholics from the sample may come as something of a surprise. However, since the years of collegiate attendance for the sample were in the 1920s through the 1950s, most Catholics would have enrolled (or strongly encouraged to enroll) at a Catholic institution. Catholic affiliation among the major donors is represented in two instances: one major donor was a convert to Catholicism and it was he who remarked “my gifts to the Church preceded my gifts to Michigan.” All three Catholic spouses were described as “very religious”; i.e., “my wife hasn’t missed Sunday mass in over forty years.” And these spouses often played pivotal roles in the philanthropic decision making process. For example, it was the Catholic spouse of Donor L who suggested to her husband that he fund the entire renovation of the Methodist Church in Small Town, U.S.A. and this suggestion (and obvious sign of approval) sealed the philanthropic gift. The Non-affiliated and Philanthropy to Higher Education The non-affiliated group, i.e. those who no longer had an active association with an institutional church, was marked by a range of previous involvement and philosophical and institutional critiques. For some non-affiliated major donors, organized religion played an extremely important formative role, which played out very obviously in their decision to make a philanthropic gift to Michigan, as was seen in the life of Donor K who was an altar boy with the Episcopal Church, or the strong involvement of Donor O with the Christian Reform Church. Youthful experience of religion and religious themes seem to mark an individual conscience for many years to come. Still for others, organized religion was plainly absent from their lives, in their youth and currently as well. The reality that great generosity occurs without a hint of traditional religious themes attests to the internal workings of the human condition and the myriad of motives that can impact one’s philanthropy. Many individuals have neither an interest in nor an affiliation with organized religion. Since this “competition” for the philanthropic dollar is significantly reduced, it stands to reason that well organized and funded groups will be able to involve these individuals. Given the lofty sentiments that interviewees hold for the nature and purpose of higher education, one can understand how higher education can replace organized religion. In many ways, the transference of loyalties may be less a function of proselytization than an opportunity that naturally falls into the higher education arena. Since individuals seek to make and to enhance meaning in their lives, philanthropy to higher education offers an avenue to make the world a better place and to touch the lives of those who attend institutions that were important to them. Higher education, for many, supplants the role of organized religion, as seems to be the case with Donor I. Its role in society, the meaning of attendance and identification, and the opportunities afforded by the experience and

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affiliation are an educational “web of meaning”—a sacred and hallowed space, in the absence of, or in addition to, other such institutions in their lives. Gender and Religion One critical finding of this study research was the pivotal role that women play in the transmission and encouragement of religious values and ideals, including the relationship with the institutional structure. The connection between women and religion crossed over all denominational lines. The predominance of examples showing how women transmitted the “love of the faith” (as Donors S, W, E and L recall) suggests that issues of religion may be “maternal” or that women appear to be more amenable to religion. Given the frequency of this assertion by (male) interviewees, it is not surprising that our knowledge about the role of religion in the lives of major donors has been lacking, precisely because, when questions concerning philanthropic motivation were broached, they were traditionally asked of men and not women. Now that women are becoming philanthropists in significantly increasing numbers, issues and understandings of the role of religion will undoubtedly become much more salient. The manner in which men affiliate with religion, in comparison with women, seems curious. Several instances of men not attending religious services on Sunday because of business concerns, hint to the kinds of involvement and affiliation men might prefer with institutions. Since men had been the decisionmakers in terms of philanthropy and they were little engaged in their churches, it makes sense that higher education, which affords leadership opportunities and volunteer engagement, would capture their philanthropy. As gender roles continue to shift, men’s relationship with organized religion may change as well. Theorizing about the Role of Religion and Philanthropy Religion provides a touchstone of identity, and community, serving as a “web of meaning” through its worldview and culture (Geertz, 1973). But the interpretation and impact of these “webs” are ultimately personal phenomena. A single theory which depicts how religion does (or does not) impact an individual’s motivations for philanthropy needs to retain an element of the poetic for as Herberg (1955) asserts: “When we deal with the religious situation, we are brought up short before the final mystery in a way that is even more immediate than in the ordinary affairs of life” (p. 16). Given that theory production is an expectation (as well as an opportunity) in research, I will attempt a theory as I stylistically borrow from William Carlos Williams who once penned: So much depends upon

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a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens Given the characteristics of this particular sample I surmise that: So much depends upon one’s denominational and group affiliation and experiences within the family (especially with mom) plus the serendipity of grace CONCLUSION The series of motivations for major donor philanthropy to higher education fall into three over-arching categories: institutional, biographical, and religious, all of which were reflected in the emergent themes from the interviews. Themes associated with the institution per se included features that are universally attributive to American higher education, e.g. teaching and enhancing of democracy and democratic values. Those features that were particular to the University of Michigan, included a strong focus on quality and an outstanding experience of education, the role of mentors, the importance of extra-curricular activities and residential life experiences. Institutions also facilitate philanthropy through a series of specific endeavors. Those which were cited as most important to the making of a major gift include volunteer involvement, stewardship of gifts, and development programs which are staffed professionally especially in the form of executive committees. For individuals with substantial wealth and concurrently strong identification with the institution, the advancement office’s ability to service and engage the major donor will be a critical aspect of the relationship between the individual and institution. The experience of American higher education often profoundly impacts an individual that emotions are evidenced during the philanthropic process. These include the need to “pay back” and scholarships are particularly helpful in enhancing motivations within this emotion. The autobiographical and sociological world-view of the major donors was rooted in a very difficult time in American history. But for this group of individuals, the bleak days of the World Wars and the Depression taught lessons of generosity and community.

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These experiences within their families, schools, religious congregations and communities now under gird their feelings of gratitude and their philosophies, encouraging the payback for gifts and opportunities received. Biographical themes included a nurturing family environment, good relationships with parents, and difficulties that needed to be endured in the form of cataclysmic events. Religion’s role in the lives of major donors depends upon a number of factors, including one’s denomination, one’s family, the role of marriage and the potency of ethnicity. In this study, religion was of strategic importance in the philanthropy to Jewish major donors, less significant for the Christian major donors, and strongly formative but not casual for those who were non-affiliated. The role of religion in the philanthropy to higher education seems to ultimately depend upon the personality of the individual and the extent to which one partakes of affiliation and involvement. Higher education holds a special place in the collective psyche of American society. As a singular force in American culture, colleges and universities retain an enormous respect among individual philanthropists, even in instances where there may be disagreement over institutional procedures or perhaps even mission. The respect and affection for higher education often leads to powerful emotional attachments and these are both enhanced and seized upon by the professional staff at the university.

CHAPTER 7 Philanthropic Signs and Symbols

HARVARD HYMN

Deus omnium creator, Rerum mundi moderator, Crescat cuius es fundator, Nostra Universitas, Integri sint curatores, Eruditi professores, Largiantur donatores Bene partas copias. Words by James Bradstreet Greenough Music by John Knowles Paine INTRODUCTION Sung annually at Harvard’s commencements, the Harvard Hymn beseeches God to bestow blessings on the University in the form of (among others) donors who are “many and generous.” Little did James Bradstreet Greenough realize how munificently his pious request would be answered. Philanthropic support of American higher education, which began at Harvard, reflects an amalgam of motivational, societal and institutional factors. As surveyed in the preceding chapters, major donors have articulated a series of motivations for their philanthropy to higher education. To the extent these motivations are properly interpreted and acted upon, philanthropy to American higher education will continue as a transformative force in the decades to come. This chapter provides an overview of the book and summarizes the research findings. After this discussion, suggestions concerning practical and theoretical implications are then highlighted. Some concluding thoughts are presented thereafter.

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SUMMARY OF EMERGENT THEMES: INSTITUTIONAL PERSPECTIVES The University's Role in Society Major donors to higher education hold their alma maters in high esteem. Their respect and admiration for higher education emerges from a philosophical position as well as a practical set of circumstances. Through its ability to educate current and future generations of national and international leaders, higher education’s role in American society is recognized as foundational for the future of the country and the world. The major donors interviewed believe that higher educational institutions can and should be incubators for societal progress and, as such, have the potential to be a unifying force in society and transmitters of the democratic spirit. Colleges and universities serve as a foundation for societal values and capabilities, and the awe that they inspire captures the hearts and imaginations of those who have the financial ability to support institutional programs and initiatives. As a high caliber public institution, the University of Michigan has several roles to fulfill: to educate (primarily) the citizenry of a particular state, to maintain intellectual and institutional standards and goals, and to be a national and international presence in higher education. The University of Michigan has played an extraordinary role in many individuals’ lives as a first-class institution accessible to those who have not had substantial financial resources. One finding of this research involves the impact of scholarships on an individual’s feeling of gratitude. It was clear to many major donors that the scholarship aid awarded to them allowed them to experience an institution of unparalleled quality. Scholarship recipients among the donors consistently mentioned how crucial these grants were, and how they served as a reminder of the need to reciprocate this institutional form of generosity. Identifying with One's Alma Mater Individuals fortunate enough to attend a leading American university have the rare opportunity to engage with the finest of minds and to live alongside classmates who are talented and intellectually capable. Given the opportunities presented at these institutions, it is not surprising that individuals form a powerful identification with their college or university. Identification correlates with actual physical attendance and, assuming the experiences at the institution were generally positive, identification melds with a sense of gratitude for the opportunities presented during the experience itself and throughout one’s life. For some, identification bolstered self-esteem; the more respected and prestigious the institution, the greater the enjoyment of identification. In many ways, the potency of collegiate identification can be summarized as “You are what

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college you went to.” Arbiters of collegiate standards, e.g., national public rankings, are considered extremely important, often because of the powerful identification individuals feel with their school. The comment by one donor that, “I don’t know if I would have given if the school wasn’t ranked so highly” shows the potency of these rankings. Major donors are interested in contributing to institutions which “over a long period of time do things well.” Over-identification with the institution can lead to a set of unrealistic expectations. While an institution can generate positive emotions, major donors should not expect an institution to provide a full complement of psycho-social needs. Mentorship and Extra-Curricular Experiences The academic experiences with faculty who acted as mentors—guides in their personal and academic lives—were remembered with much fondness and appreciation. This appreciation greatly influenced several individuals to make gifts in honor of these important faculty. The insight that a certain professor “taught us how to think” reflects the irreplaceable value that certain faculty can have on the lives of their students. Of the interviewees who enrolled at Michigan, the quality of the intellectual experience was cited as important, although involvement in extracurricular programs was mentioned as being of a more lasting importance than strictly academic experiences. Extracurricular programs offer opportunities for interpersonal engagement in a manner not found in traditional classroom settings. Opportunities for leadership were considered excellent proving grounds for responsibilities assumed later in life. Several individuals recall important experiences of racial and ethnic diversity, particularly at a time in America’s history when ethnic and racial groups were highly segregated. SUMMARY OF EMERGENT THEMES: ENGAGING THE MAJOR DONOR Philanthropic engagement between the individual major donors and the institution is monitored and supported by the administrative function of the development office. The interviews with the major donors pointed to expectations of professional interaction and a high quality of service when dealing with University officers. Given the service requirements of these major donors, development office staffing of major gifts programs are strategic institutional concerns. An outstanding development officer, as was shown through one case study, can so dramatically change the donor’s relationship to the institution that streams of philanthropic largess are altered to reflect the new (or re-energized) relationship. While several individuals had very specific goals for their giving, many did not and relied on their interaction with the University administrators to create those goals.

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Volunteer Committees Since major donors expect to play a pivotal role in the life of the institution as volunteers, executive committees (boards of trustees, overseers, visiting committees) are excellent avenues in which to immerse them. These executive groups, at their best, collaborate closely with various deans and faculty and, through this interaction, become intimately acquainted with the functioning of the particular academic or administrative unit. Involvement on these committees effectively uses major donors’ time and leadership skills, and the donors are well positioned to respond to the needs of the unit with their financial resources and executive acumen. Staffing these committees by highly competent administrators becomes an extremely important function, as executive expectations for their involvement are traditionally very high. Issues of Stewardship A justifiable concern surrounding major donor philanthropy is the issue of stewardship. Major donors expect—indeed, demand—an accounting of how their gifts have been spent and to whom or what their money is going. Institutionally-generated reports of their gifts, as well as having the opportunity to meet with those individuals who received their funds, often seems to satisfy concerns of institutional accountability. Stewardship offices must be able to generate the kinds of timely and accurate detail that the donor seeks as well as creatively engaging the donor in the positive outcomes of the major donor’s gift. Charitable gift agreements that are comprehensive and well thought through enhance the stewardship process. Habits of Giving Habitual acts of generosity lead to the formation of philanthropic habits. Annual giving programs helps to establish initial and continued patterns of giving which play a reflexive role in an individual’s major or significant gift, e.g., “I’ve given every year, so this (major) gift is indicative of my continued giving.” The major donors in this sample had an average of over 17 years of giving to the University, indicating that major gifts are often borne of a cycle of repetitious giving. Essential Considerations The essential characteristics reflective of the major donors that were mentioned as having an impact on their giving were being asked to become involved and to make a gift, age, discretionary income, and tax issues Two donor families were both from a large metropolitan area and mentioned how unusually philanthropic individuals in that particularly city are and how they

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had been recruited to volunteer for civic efforts. Being asked for a gift was a natural outcome of their volunteer experiences, although others mentioned that they were asked independent of their being a volunteer. Someone needed to ask for a gift and without this formal solicitation, the gift would not have materialized. Age played a factor in three arenas: the need to make specific retirement plans, a sense of maturity in terms of how major donors viewed their life in the world, and the set of cohort experiences which will be described below. Discretionary income, or “having the money,” was such a fundamental factor that it was often only indirectly alluded to because of its obviousness. Finally, specific tax issues forced the timing decisions about giving, i.e., “I had great incentive to take care of my good intentions.” Tax advantages for giving are a necessary component in American major donor philanthropy to higher education. SUMMARY OF EMERGENT THEMES: FORMATIVE INFLUENCES Family and Formation of Values The social-psychological literature stresses the importance of family life as incubators for compassion and empathy. Major donors voice agreement with these theories, as they told stories of warm and loving relationships with their parents and family members. Parental guidance and their nurturing a sense of empathy or compassion for others were constitutive elements in a generous individual’s inclination to be generous. Examples of a family’s willingness to invite strangers in for meals, of bringing food to those who were struggling during the Depression, of sacrificing their vacation for a noble cause, translated sentiment into concrete behavior. Indeed, the importance of role models as transmitters of philanthropic values was mentioned as very important in nurturing the sense of responsibility and obligation engendered by gifts one has received. Cataclysmic Events Certainly the Depression and World War II were hardship years for many, and yet these difficult times also engendered attitudes of responsibility, thrift, and gratitude. Most of those interviewed remembered these years as impacting their values and outlook on life. A sense of generosity was engendered precisely because life was difficult, and those institutions that assisted them during these bleak times are remembered with much fondness. The impact of public higher education permitted individual opportunities and advantages often reserved for only the very wealthy.

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It is therefore easy to comprehend the depth of emotion with which major donors often spoke of their involvement with the University. The emotions most often mentioned were gratitude, obligation, compassion and selfishness. SUMMARY OF EMERGENT THEMES: THE ROLE OF RELIGION Variability of Religion as a Source of Motivation “Religion is the area of giving that is central to the philanthropy of most people, but it does not dominate the giving of the rich, who favor medical and educationcentered opportunities for giving” (Brown, 1991, p. 227). Brown’s commentary on the giving patterns of the wealthy, when seen through the reality of major donor expectations, can now be readily understood: Religion has a variable impact on an individual’s philanthropy. The role of religion in an individual’s philanthropy to higher education depends on a) what religion (or denomination) one is affiliated with, b) the impact of ethnicity, c) the role of families (particularly the women) in disseminating and inculcating religious perspectives, d) experiences with organized religion, and e) spousal involvement. Much of religion’s role in the life of the major donors depended upon parental involvement. Since families are the primary transmitters of religious ideals, values and beliefs, the organizational component of religion acts as a supportive framework for the family. Organized religion may assist (to a greater or lesser degree) in that inculcation. The value and conscience formation which religion provides is aligned substantially with a philanthropic spirit. After the family, religion is the best incubator for values and attitudes related to philanthropy. Religion weaves stories of generosity, of valuing people over things, of recognizing neighbors in strangers, and in conceptualizing ways in which individuals can move beyond solipsism into community. Religion plays an essential and yet enigmatic role in the philanthropic process. For several of the major donors, their religious heritage and affiliation was a powerful aspect of their philanthropic motivation and subsequently led clearly to their giving to the University of Michigan. For others, religion was one of many important factors, influential but not necessarily significant. Still for others, religion had residual impact, and although these individuals no longer considered themselves as “practicing” any denominational religion, the fundamental ways in which religious formation impacted their childhood and their subsequent values was substantial. Finally, several major donors spoke of their motivations of philanthropy without a trace of religious impact or involvement, making clear that philanthropic values are essentially based within the human heart and, while these can be furthered and nurtured by religion, this is not necessarily the case.

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Judaism In particular, Judaism emerged as an extraordinary crucible for values of generosity and philanthropy, especially toward higher education. Since Judaism is an ethnicity as well as a religion, the Jewish community partakes of gatherings where values and attitudes can be inculcated and nurtured in powerful ways. Unlike Christianity, many of the most important Jewish rituals are based in the home, giving the family almost sole responsibility for transmitting Jewish values and culture. The early to mid twentieth century in America has been unique in its ability to engender a sense of philanthropy. The crisis of the Holocaust, the reality of World War II, and the establishment of the state of Israel were reflective of “emergency behavior,” and the American Jewish community responded with unprecedented generosity. Many of the major donors remembered their own experiences of fund raising for Israel as children, and as they assumed responsibility in the many affiliated service components of the Jewish community, they received first-hand experience of leadership and philanthropy. Role modeling of philanthropy in the Jewish community was extremely important in transmitting the values of tzedakah to future generations. Tzedakah is based on a concept of “justice,” more than it is of love or charity. Giving then for Jews retains an element of “moral obligation.” While much of the generosity of Jews had been to specific Jewish causes, it has always recognized the importance of contributions outside of the Jewish world. Jewish culture prizes education, and the nurturing of the intellectual life is recognized as an important value. Given the high esteem Jews place on learning and the prejudice that many Jews faced in the early to mid twentieth century, those institutions that engaged their minds by providing access to university life are ripe for Jewish philanthropy. Christianity Unlike Judaism, Christianity’s role in transmitting values encouraging generosity is mediated primarily by ecclesiastical structures. Indeed, many of the major donors found their church’s value formation to be extremely important in their youth as well as for their children. Comments such as “It’s very important to me to have my children belong to the church” indicated a reverence for the institution and the values for which it stands. Church services and institutionallyrelated programs, such as sermons, the “passing of the basket”, the notion of tithing, and various projects organized by the church mean to teach the values of generosity and compassion. The values are the direct linkage to the philanthropy given to higher education. The Catholic population was remarkably small (n=1), although this is not surprising, given that Catholics were encouraged to attend Catholic colleges and universities during the years that those interviewed were in school. It is

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interesting to note that Catholic women were consistently described by their nonCatholic husbands as “very religious” and supportive of their mutual philanthropy to higher education. The Non-Affiliated Even for those who are no longer affiliated with organized religion, the remnants of faith development were often constitutive elements in how many of these individuals framed their philanthropy. Experiences with a particular denomination, especially when the religion had a strongly ethnic flavor, helped to mold the values through which the major donors frame the world and their responsibilities within it. Yet others who either no longer have any affiliation or never had any connection with a religious tradition find their motivations for philanthropy from the many attributes suggested throughout this dissertation. While religion may be an excellent transmitter of philanthropic values, by no means is it the sole source of benevolent engagement. Religion and Gender Another finding in this dissertation was the involvement of women in transmitting religious values and in the affiliation of women with the institutional church. It was very clear that the women interviewed value their association with religion significantly more than men. Remembrances of a grandmother taking children to the Sunday school and mothers shepherding their children to services while fathers had to work to support their families were mentioned often. A man’s relationship with religion varies greatly and often depends on spousal influence. There seems to be a disaffiliation process that several men went through, a “drifting” from the church. Such disaffiliation came from job responsibilities as well as the poor performance of pastors. Men are often quite reticent about topics of religion, and discussion of it can be uncomfortable, e.g., “I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve.” Theoretical Implications: Religion and Philanthropy to Higher Education Religion relates to the philanthropy of higher education through organizational intersections and patterns of meaning which both practically and symbolically complement each other. A set of institutional and inter-personal patterns define the ways in which these organizations add meaning to the lives of those involved and, by doing so, create a dynamism which encourages philanthropy. Judaism has a potent effect on many individuals’ motivations for generosity, often an all-encompassing worldview that is concurrently an ethnicity as well as a religion.

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The family is the cultural transmitter of philanthropic values and these norms are strengthened by the very practical experiences that Jews have in their many affiliated causes. Indeed, for many Jews, philanthropy, as a form of generosity, is fundamentally a matter of justice and given that interpretation, giving is synonymous with obligation. Notions of justice, when tied to the important place of the intellectual life in Jewish culture, steer generosity very naturally toward higher education. Conversely, Christianity has more of an indirect impact on philanthropic values. While there is much to encourage generosity and thus philanthropy, it is often understated and mediated through church structures (as opposed to the family). Similar to the Jews, the very practical philanthropic experiences associated with church attendance, e.g. “passing the basket,” coupled with examples of generosity from the Scriptures, create an environment in which giving (in general) is an outgrowth of religious tradition. Philanthropy to higher education fits into Christian tradition, but not with the same potency that it has with the Jews. The similarities between religion and higher education exist in aspects of community, mission and volunteer involvement. The congregation is a distinctive community in religion, where members engage with each other in services for theological and spiritual meaning. Identification as an adherent or a member of a given tradition marks an individual sense of self and relationship to the world. Higher education likewise has a powerful community aspect, wherein individuals can identify so closely with the institution that their relationship to it is both familial and demographic, e.g., “I went to XXX”. The mission of both organizations is essentially one of service. For religion, services to God (or conceptions of the transcendent) embolden adherents to a life of faith and “communion”; the mission of higher education is to provide for society intellectual growth and the nurturing of democratic values. The missions of both groups are explained by means of traditions. For some, religious traditions are more rooted in the family (Judaism) than in the local congregation (Christianity). “Golden rules,” rituals of prayer and sacrifice, and the reading of sacred texts transmit these traditions through the generations. Traditions at institutions of higher education are relayed through institutional decision-making, the histories of that institution, and the cultural and social events that characterize the life of the school. Rituals are found in the academic settings (classroom examinations, oral defenses) as well as in a plethora of extracurricular events, e.g., homecomings, convocations, and commencements. Both religion and American higher education have the potential to inspire. Whether it’s through a powerful sermon or a lecture of noteworthy brilliance, the quiet satisfaction of caring for the poor or the jubilant emotion at winning a national football championship, the experiences of community and engagement with people or projects that one cherishes lend significance and meaning to one’s life. Volunteer activities on behalf of reli gion and higher education afford tangible opportunities to become further invested in the mission of these groups and by

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doing so, individuals gain an appreciation for the strengths and weaknesses of these organizations. The Major Donor Shift: From Religion to Higher Education The organized affiliation structures of religion have literally been a “god-send” to higher education as the churches for Christianity and the ethnic fabric of Judaism has helped to form a philanthropic mindset and, at the same time, often did not take advantage of such potential. For example, opportunities available for volunteer leadership within many Christian denominations are often minimal, particularly when compared to Jewish groups. While exceptions do exist, e.g., the Vestry within the Episcopal Church, the structure of Christian denominations (Protestant and Catholic), with the locus of executive responsibilities presiding with the head minister, often limits the involvement of an “executive elite” who are subsequently tapped by colleges and universities. Also, the infrastructure issue dampens major giving to religion and reinforces it to higher education: it costs to hire, train, and support the individuals and programs that foster major gifts. For example, one donor mentions that he gave his first gifts to organized religion and that he still supports the “Little Sisters” (a community of nuns who work with the very poor) and has been supporting them with small gifts for many years. The Donor’s comment that he was not easily able to identify the needs of the church as he could the needs of higher education, gives credence to studies that suggest that staff and budgetary support for development efforts is an important factor in people’s giving. Put another way, if the “Little Sisters” had a full-time major gifts office and involved the Donor (having dinner with a group of elderly nuns, visiting their nursing home), the likelihood that he would be a major philanthropist to the order would be considerable. Higher education, with its vast resources, can engage the interests of individuals in a way that most nonprofits are simply unable to do. For example, churches often hire “one-shot” consulting firms for immediate needs, that might be successful in the short term, but the longer-term cultivation and involvement necessary for the largest gifts often does not occur. A Shift in Jewish Philanthropy? As Ostrower (1995) describes, the assimilation of Jews into the upper echelons of non-profits has had an extraordinary impact on the funding of these organizations and the changing social milieu in which they operate. Without the immediate dangers that coalesced the Jewish community in early to mid-century, the isolation of Jews into their own communities has long since subsided (except for the highly Orthodox).

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Donor G points to a philanthropic shift away from traditional modes of Jewish giving to a much broader base: “All of our money (forty years ago) was confined…ninety-five percent of it to the Jewish community. Nobody wanted us. We were rejected by this society. In the last twenty-five years it has changed completely, so that I just saw that the symphony got about fifteen million dollars worth of endowments, almost entirely from the Jewish community.” If indeed the Jewish community is beginning to favor higher education over traditional Jewish organizations, it may be because the strong ethnic identity forged through the minority status of Jews may we waning. If there is a philanthropic shift occurring among Jews, it may well be because there is no longer the necessity to support Israel, as well as other Jewish organizations which may now seem redundant. This shift seems to certainly bode well for higher education, assuming that future generations of Jews are influenced by the Jewish philanthropic traditions of their ancestors. The danger to the Jewish way of life is of real concern to the Jewish community, as noted through comments made by Donor B who is involved with the Jewish Outreach to the Intermarried. Full acceptance of the Jewish community in the United States is finally within reach, and it is pre cisely this acceptance that poses a threat to Jewish identity. Implications for Academic Administrators in Higher Education The stories of the giving patterns and habits of major donors to higher education illuminate many ways in which the institution can heighten awareness of philanthropy and thereby setting the stage for future giving by alumni and alumnae. For example, introducing students to philanthropic role models, whether at orientations, convocations or special receptions, raises students’ consciousness that they are the beneficiaries of another’s generosity. Students should be informed as often as possible of acts of extraordinary philanthropy. As Donor N remarked: “When I came to Michigan, as part of the orientation process, those who were in charge of the orientation pointed out that Michigan, among all state universities, was most fortunate in terms of gifts over the years… that made an impression on me. I mean, I never forgot it.” For those receiving scholarships, it should be made clear to them that their assistance has been made through another individual’s generosity. Be strategic in celebrating the scholarships: make sure the student-recipient understands that someone’s generosity has assisted the student during their stay at the sponsoring institution. By organizing and staffing forums of executive committees, institutions can take advantage of professional expertise. Major donors enjoy and expect significant involvement with the institutions they financially support. These committees are excellent avenues to involve major donors, as they have an opportunity to work with the leadership of a given academic or administrative unit.

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Major donors learn first-hand of a program’s strengths and weaknesses and of opportunities for their giving. If an institution wishes to attract philanthropy, then it must focus its efforts on attributes of excellence. Major donors want to be associated with institutions “which, over the long term, have the habit of doing things well.” Focusing on a few areas of expertise (which allow for bragging rights, e.g., “it’s world class”) would be more beneficial than being seen as average or plainly good in many areas. The experiences surrounding living on campus—whether in residence halls, fraternities or sororities—has a dramatic effect on an individual’s identification with the institution. The correlation between residential life experiences and major donor philanthropy (from the alumni) is so powerful that institutions that are commuter-based should strongly consider constructing residence halls, going so far as to require at least one year on campus for the traditional age undergraduate population. Students who were lucky enough to have a faculty member serve as a mentor greatly valued that experience. Programs and strategies that facilitate facultystudent collaboration would benefit the student experience greatly. What might logically follow, also, is the issue of class size. It would seem that the smaller the class, the more likely the opportunity to form a strong mentoring relationship with a faculty member. Extracurricular activities need to be viewed as integral (as opposed to ancillary) to the overall educational experience. Major donors often remarked how important these experiences were to their personal growth and leadership experiences, and that they complement their academic activities. Extracurricular experiences of racial and ethnic diversity were mentioned as especially formative and treasured aspects of the undergrad uate experience. Re-engaging Disaffected Graduates Brittingham and Pezzullo (1990) question whether institutional advancement programs can re-engage disaffected graduates. It seems that much would depend on the nature and severity of the disaffection. For example, leadership styles and managerial talent vary with the individual in office. This was true for Donor W, who very indirectly suggested he had problems with the previous administration (particularly the president) but thought the current president was an outstanding choice, and became interested again in the University when the change in leadership occurred. If the cause for disaffection can be remedied to the individual’s liking, then re-engagement is clearly possible. However, if the problem lies in an overall negative (or mediocre) experience at the institution during the time of enrollment, then I believe it would be difficult to overcome this flaw in the individual’s educational experience. I was unable to find any instances that indicated that the influence of seminal negative experiences could be un done or ameliorated. For graduates of the institution, the possibility for

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renewed enthusiasm rests on a fundamentally positive relationship the individual has had with (and at) the institution. Institutional loyalties among major donors are malleable among institutions, as exemplified by Donor C who transferred allegiances from one organizaticn to the University of Michigan, partially on account of the outstanding work of one major gifts officer, and in part because of the lack of such professionalism at another organization. A significant opportunity to strengthen faltering relationships may be achieved through the admissions legacies of children or other family members, as alluded to by Donors J and S. As mentioned previously, identification with collegiate institutions is pervasive in American society, (particularly if the institution is considered “prestigious”), and when this identification becomes a common denominator among family members, institutional identification and affection is naturally strengthened. Practical Advice for Major Gifts/Development Officers Development officers invariably ask, “So, how can I weave these research findings into my professional practice and career?” The following are some suggestions to that end: • Voluntarism precedes philanthropic giving. Opportunities for voluntarism must be an essential element in any major gifts program. Major donors want to be included, almost as a form of “oversight” so they know their gifts are being used well. However, volunteers need to be serviced well, particularly high profile volunteers. Proper staffing and budgetary support of volunteer programs is essential. • Major donor work is aggressive and pro-active. Comments such as “I don’t know if I’d have given if (unnamed development officer) hadn’t stopped in to visit” point out the importance of personal visitations by major gift officers as part of that pro-active agenda. • Attention to detail, overall thoughtfulness, and timeliness in follow-up create the impression that the institution cares deeply about the donor. The administrative infrastructure that handles these stewardship issues is a core function of the development effort. • Don’t forget that annual giving is a pattern of generosity that leads to major gift giving. Dismissing it as “unimportant” in comparison to the larger gifts (which are invariably restricted) sends the wrong signal to donors who believed that their annual gifts did make a difference. • Since religion plays such an extraordinary role in the philanthropy of many individuals, asking about religious preferences and involvement will certainly produce a deeper understanding of the donor’s worldview and may translate into gift opportunities. For example, including questions about religion in periodic surveys may be a non-intrusive way of securing this information.

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• Look for opportunities to create executive committees, e.g. Board of Visitors, and be sure to staff them well. Advice for Major Donors The opportunity to interview a group of major donors to higher education and to speak about their giving and their relationship to that institution offered a number of insights and ideas about their motivations for philanthropy. Given the opportunity, I would offer the following suggestions on how the major donor giving relationship to the university might be more fruitful: Since higher education’s needs are great, I would suggest that major donors channel their philanthropy to institutional priorities. While major donor interests may sometime dovetail with university needs, some philanthropic support is of relatively minor concern to the academic priorities, in particular, of the institution. Secondly, the place where major donor philanthropy could have the greatest positive effect is in the area of unrestricted support. This kind of “no strings attached” philanthropy not only gives the executives of the University the resources and flexibility to respond to needs and opportunities, but it is also a symbolic gesture of faith in those who lead the institution. Thirdly, non-profits are not staffed as well as GoldmanSachs or IBM. Please don’t expect your alma mater to provide you with the immediate service and results that you seek. Higher education is not just another business venture. Its bottom line is the intellectual growth of its students, not the win-loss record of the football team or the annual rankings in this year’s favorite survey. While institutions value your involvement, any one institution cannot fulfill someone’s total emotional needs. Over-identification with a given institution can lead to expectations that will eventually go unfulfilled. A relationship that had once produced “immense joy” may quickly sour if expectations become too great. Finally, one of the major threats to philanthropy is the unspoken problem of donor intentions. Essentially the distinction between a public (and generous) personality, and the less generous persona in private, donor hypocrisy can wreak havoc on institutions, which are supposed to benefit from individual largess. When filtered through the media, donor hypocrisy undermines the role-model effect, severely impacting potential contributors. Examples of donor hypocrisy might include the announcement of a huge contribution and then rescinding that gift years later, or tying so many strings to the gift that there is little net benefit to the institution. The problem is potentially lethal to a society that recognizes and rewards philanthropy.

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FUTURE AVENUES FOR RESEARCH The following are some topics that are viable opportunities for research and theorizing: Religion and Philanthropy This dissertation is one of the first in the study of philanthropy that explores religion as a form of motivation. Given the paucity of research in this area, this interplay between religion and philanthropy remains a viable and exciting option for future research. The cultural, psychological, and inter-personal phenomena that both arenas represent deserve scholarly attention. A substantial reason behind the lack of theory regarding religion and philanthropy is the extraordinary bias against religion among social scientists travel in a post-modern milieu. Not only is this unfortunate from an overall intellectual perspective, but, in the case of philanthropy, where it is clear that religion can and does play a powerful role in motivating some individuals to be generous, many institutions are less able to contribute to the common good because of this unstated bias. Qualitative research has the methodological potential for appreciating religion and religious themes that is often unavailable in positivistic research. One just can’t quantify meaning or metaphor. As Wolfe (1997) makes clear: To develop laws of social behavior, scholars make often admittedly simplistic assumptions about how people behave. Alas, one of the aspects of human conduct that scholars ignore, because it seems imprecise, is how we attribute meaning to the world around us. By reintroducing respect for human beings as creators of meaning, the rediscovery of religion can help revive interest in all of the ways that people interpret and symbolize their place in the world. Cataclysmic Events For this group of major donors, the very difficult times that they lived through and survived had the effect of translating their life story in terms of gratitude for the help they received and the lessons of generosity learned. Why is it that devastating events have the potential of increasing people’s awareness of those in need and arouse empathy for some and not others? Research the positive effects of devastating experiences is an important topic in the study of altruism and human behavior.

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Gender and Religion One of the findings in this dissertation was the importance with which women held religious values and their centrifugal role in the transmission of these values and sensibilities to their children and other members of their families. Researching why women seem to be more inclined to religious perspectives and, conversely, why men are less comfortable in speaking about these issues, will be extremely helpful in gaining a fuller understanding of the transmission of religious values and insights. Donor Research Philanthropists constitute a very specialized group for which specialized research might better navigate the milieus in which these groups operate. Since much of the material on donor motivation reflects majority perspectives, locating the specialized major donor groupings will help to augment theory. For example, researching what kinds of involvement elite donors to higher education prefer might uncover important ways to engage major donors. Tax issues as a philanthropic incentive is a widely debated topic that may have enormous impact on estate planning. Research on scholarship recipients will be important in terms uncovering what kinds of scholarship donors are more generous than others, e.g. Are those who receive a full-ride scholarship (athletes) more philanthropic than those who received only a partial scholarship? Is there a generational distinction among scholarship recipients? Do scholarships have more of a philanthropic “return” when they are given to entering freshman or transfer students? Generational Impact of Philanthropy The major donors in this dissertation came of age in an American climate that indelibly marked their values systems. Researching generational transmission of values and how this process effects philanthropy to higher education may shed further light on how philanthropic values are communicated. For example, the current inter-generational transfer of wealth and how and to whom it is distributed will be important for philanthropic theory. The following recounting of Donor K’s interview points toward the use of a religious vocabulary when describing his philanthropy to Michigan. But it also uncovers the limitations of this vocabulary—an epistemology of the transcendent —and illustrates the profound ways in which religion has organized his views on giving. It also points out the limits of organized religion and the necessity for other factors to supplant or augment traditional religion.

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TOWARD A SPIRITUALITY OF PHILANTHROPY If organized religion’s impact on motivations for philanthropy is as variable as this dissertation research suggests, might there be another venue in which we can speak of philanthropic values as akin to religious idealism sans a denomination? The story of Donor K bespeaks a spirituality of philanthropy and therein one finds a language fundamental to the human experience of existential meaning. A very successful partner at a prestigious law firm, Donor K was an only child and grew up in the mid-west. While Donor K’s father “was not too religious,” Donor K’s mother was a “very strong Episcopalian.” She made sure her son was involved with the church: “When I was a kid, I was an altar boy and all those kinds of things.” But when Donor K enrolled as an undergraduate, his relationship with the church changed: “I reacted against two things: one was playing the trumpet and the other was going to church. Now, why I can’t tell you. I hated the trumpet…I didn’t hate the church, I just sort of drifted away.” Donor K summarized his philosophy of religion as follows: I’m not a particularly religious person, but I often talk to my scholarship recipients about a concept of grace. I do believe in grace (at least my concept of grace) which is that ‘you are blessed in a way that often has zero to do with you…’ Who exactly does the blessing in my philosophy is not necessarily a concept of God, but it certainly is I think there, and I believe I have this same sense of obligation to provide grants to others. If you translate it into religious terms, it would be the concept that appears in that marvelous song called ‘Amazing Grace’…the sense is that God exercises grace in dealing with people. When asked about his current affiliation with any organized religion, Donor K responded “That’s awfully complicated,…and I don’t know how to describe… I am not a believer but I am a great student of religion and for telling the truth.” When prodded for further explanation, Donor K seemed almost exasperated. He thought a moment or two and said: “You have asked for something I don’t know how (to answer).” He then asked: “Do you know who Paul Claudel was?” Responding in the negative, Donor K elucidated: “He was a very famous French writer, principally a poet. He was also an international diplomat, a very great French intellect. He was a non-believer. And if you go into the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris, and look very carefully along the right transept you will find a plaque in the stones. What it says (freely translated) is “Here Paul Claudel was converted.1” Donor K continued on: “It was his epiphany and I’ve often been struck by that story. It’s an interesting story that it would happen. If you were to take a parallel, it would be as if Saul Bellow stood in a Catholic Church someplace and had a conversion.”

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Referring to himself, Donor K reiterates: “It’s not that I either have been or will be converted, but it indicates to me that there are transcendent forces that work.” The transcendent force—or God—showered Donor K with grace, “opportunities to go the university…then to Law School,…then to study in France. In many ways it was serendipitous.” Theologically speaking, Donor K has moved beyond Geertz’s definition of religion transmitting a motivation that is “uniquely realistic” to a dimension of reality beyond solely intellectual reason. His understanding of grace leads to his personal recognition that he has been a recipient of God’s largess and since this is so, there is a responsibility—an obligation—to do what he is able for others. Since grace has “zero to do with you” those who receive it are essentially lucky, or religiously speaking, blessed. The primary concept that Donor K uses is “obligation” and he distinguishes between obligation and generosity: “I think you can have a sense of generosity, you feel well, I want to be generous, I’ve got a lot of money. I find that most people I know who truly give, give out of a sense of obligation.” For Donor K an abundance of grace showered him, essentially undeserved, with opportunities. The only response to these blessings was to return the favor. Donor K’s philanthropy reflects religious and human insights of a transcendent nature of grace, and therein Donor K frames a spirituality of philanthropy. Such a spirituality partakes of a language and perspective on the human experience which, through philanthropy, reciprocates bestowed benevolence. CONCLUSION Recalling the golf club analogy from chapter two, for many of those interviewed about their philanthropy to higher education, religion was their “Big Bertha,” a powerful golf club meant to drive the ball a great distance—a motivation that brought them furthermost to an act of philanthropy. But for others, it just wasn’t in their arsenal of clubs; other clubs took its place. Still for most, it was not only in their bag but was taken out and used during the round. The future of religion in America, and how that may or may not impact philanthropy to higher education, remains a mystery. Trends suggest that changes have been particularly noticeable among Jews, who are assimilating (intermarrying) rapidly. Coupled with diminishing external pressures for group solidarity, Jewish identity will continue to evolve into a very different reality in the years ahead. Post World War II also saw a rise of atheism among Jews, increasing their secularity tendencies. Whether future generations of Jews will continue the traditions of their ancestors may depend more on environmental than theological pressures. For Christianity, the decline in mainline Protestantism seems to slowly, further altering the landscape of American Christianity. However, the burgeoning evangelical and fundamentalist Protestant denominations may have a markedly different relationship to higher education than their mainline siblings. Newer

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Protestant denominations, e.g. Assemblies of God, and Mormons, are quickly becoming a potent force in American society and higher education. Older generations of Roman Catholics, who are now professionally and financially well established, must make their mark in philanthropic circles. Due to the immigrant nature of the Catholic Church, the number of Roman Catholics continues to grow steadily, with significant numbers currently enrolling in public higher education. Catholics need to contribute the philanthropic legacy to higher education as have the Jews and Protestants. We are only now, at the turn of the twentieth century, beginning to think of the United States as more than a Judeo-Christian society and as the diversity of world religions becomes more representative in American culture, these religions, such as Islam, Hinduism and Buddhism, will inform and impact the very definition of American philanthropy. Those unaffiliated with religion replace the specifically religious language of charity and justice with perspectives that give them meaning. Generosity is a (potentially) universal personality trait and how one wishes to incorporate philanthropic values in their life remains independent of any one particular denomination. The Symbolic Nature of Philanthropy American colleges and universities institutionalize the educational dreams and aspirations of American society. Throughout the interviews, individuals spoke often and with much emotion about the opportunities afforded them because of their attendance at the University of Michigan, while others who did not attend the University spoke of the impact that Michigan had on the city and state. Higher education infused many of their lives with applied credentials for professional success in the various marketplaces in which they found themselves. At its best, higher education succeeds in teaching not only how to make a living, but how to make a life worth living. Philanthropy to higher education often reflects an appreciation for the dynamic academic and social enterprise that affords individuals the opportunity to grow intellectually and inter-personally. It also symbolizes an attitude of generosity— regardless of which motivations may have engaged the philanthropic decision making process. The symbolic nature of philanthropy draws upon the intangible “patterns of meaning” which lie at the core of human existence, a hint of how love manifests itself in the world. Symbols point to a reality beyond our capacity to articulate—a resonant silence. As religion seeks to nurture the human spirit and reference the sacred, it engenders a capacity to engage in magnanimous philanthropy. Reverence for this symbolic nature of philanthropy is contained in the words of a Talmudic scribe who penned: “If you want to see the invisible, carefully observe the visible.”

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EPILOGUE Oseola McCarty died on Sept. 26, 1999 at the age of 91. Rick Bragg, who penned her obituary for The New York Times referred to her as the “Washerwoman With a Heart of Gold” and wrote how “She had not even known exactly what the word philanthropy meant, but the elderly washerwoman who gave away practically every dollar she ever made to endow a scholarship fund for poor students in Mississippi would become a symbol of selfless giving.” McCarty was awarded the Presidential Citizen’s Medal (the nation’s second highest award for civilians), an honorary doctorate from Harvard, carried the Olympic Torch, was honored by the United Nations, and received more than 300 awards. Oseola McCarty epitomized sacrificial giving although she never understood it in those terms. One hundred fifty thousand dollars was just “more than I could ever use” and she preferred “to share my wealth with the children.” “I live where I want to live, and I live the way I want to live” she once remarked. Her simple life revolved around her home and the only activities on her agenda, (in addition to washing the clothes) were a walk to the grocery store and visits to the Friendship Baptist Church, accompanied by her well-worn Bible. Bragg closes the obituary with the observation: “In a world in which people are suspicious of things too good to be true… Miss McCarty really was good and true.” NOTES 1 Claudel’s description of this incident can be found in Mandelker, A. and E.Powers (Eds.) (1999). Pilgrim Souls: A collection of spiritual autobiographies. Here Claudel recalls the core of that experience: “I myself was standing in the crowd near the second pillar at the entrance to the choir on the right of the sacristy. It was then that the event took place that revolutionized my whole life. Suddenly my heart was touched and I BELIEVED. I believed with such power, with such force of my whole being, with a conviction that was so overwhelming and a certainty that shut out so completely any tiniest doubt—that nothing since, neither books nor reasoning nor the vicissitudes of an extremely varied life, has been able to shake or even to touch my faith. I was overcome with a sudden and overwhelming sense of the innocence and the eternal infancy of God— an inexpressible revelation” (p. 454).

APPENDIX Methodological Proceedings

Overview An important episode in my field research illustrates a number of points in the research design; this is the subject of this chapter. The visit with one donor recounted herein sheds light on a number of concerns and implications for this project’s methodological design. Introduction Even after he read the letter of introduction describing the research, securing the appointment to interview Donor J took some convincing. “Are you sure we couldn’t do this by phone? It’s a long way to travel for just one appointment.” “And you are sure you really want to do this?” Yes, no, and yes. Yes, it’s much better to discuss the complexities of motivations in person. No, it’s not a long way to travel to visit with someone as philanthropic as you are. And yes, I’m sure that I’d like to visit the western region of the United States, in the waning winter months of 1998. The owner and chief executive of a stunningly beautiful guest or “dude” ranch, “buffered by a thick blanket of stars above and a thick blanket of snow below,” Donor J has both his bachelor’s and professional degrees from Michigan. A native of Detroit, his father owned an automotive parts company during the Depression. Awarded a Regents Alumni Scholarship, which paid the full tuition of $50 a year, attending the University was “like a dream come true.” He eventually married, raised a family, and moved to another state. During that time his wife developed cancer a “three- year dreadful experience in Washington,” eventually succumbing to the disease through “lack of attention.” Donor J quickly surmised that, “every cancer center wasn’t equal.” After he remarried and sold his business, Donor J and his second wife relocated to the Rocky Mountains region where, as the advertising brochure depicts, “a silence so pure, so absolutely untouched…a steady, constant silence that endures and envelopes all who visit here.”

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As I drove up the unpaved roads to the small log cabin where Donor J administers his ranch business, I wondered if, in fact, this interview would actually be worth the time and hassle. Having just endured a sleepless night (due to the paper thin walls in a “no-tell motel”), the drive from where I was staying to Donor J’s business was concurrently beautiful and treacherous, given that it was avalanche season. My rented four-cylinder budget wheels barely maneuvered the steep curves and awkward angles; more than a few times I thought the tractor-trailers would overlook me in their rear and side view mirrors. But with a few of the interviews already completed, I knew that the topic of religion and motivation was very difficult to access over the phone. Additionally, I suspected that anyone who specialized in executive camps in a retreat-like atmosphere would conduct an interesting interview. After greeting me, Donor J attended to a few financial details as I arranged my tape-recorder and started to browse through the ranch’s promotional literature. “I’m always busy,” Donor J remarked. “One of the reasons I’m always busy is that I’m involved with a number of enterprises. They’re all small businessmen who have what I call an ‘itch’ but they don’t have the ‘scratch.’ They know what they want to do, but they’re unbankable, or they’re unloanable…or they just can’t quite get to where they need to be…I either finance them or put them in touch with the right people or whatever. It’s because of some people along the way that helped me when I was unhelpable.” When our conversation eventually began, Donor J spoke of his desire to give back to Michigan, the gift to cancer research, the folks he worked with at the University, and how others have assisted him during difficult times. In 1987, he and his current wife initiated the philanthropic relationship with the University as a way of “giving back, allaying guilt and combating cancer.” While reflecting on his youth, his being a Presbyterian, and going to church and Sunday school, he veered somewhat away from attributing his philanthropic motivations to this and observed: “You’re gonna get around to it, (but) I don’t know that formal religion has much of an influence on me. You’ve got some question you’ll want to purse with that, and I had remembered that was one of the thoughts of your study. I am a religious person, but I don’t talk about it, I don’t wear it on my sleeve, and I don’t think it’s particularly a strong and over factored (motivation) and I’m remembering people and their deeds.” After nodding in agreement, Donor J then commented: “Now you know …if that ain’t religion, that’s fine.” I found this remark fascinating, as I had not even broached the question of his relationship with organized religion, as he preempted that train of thought by making a distinction be tween formal and informal notions of religion. There was also the sense of “I’m doing it my way, and I don’t care if it fits anyone else’s rules.” Given that he had raised the topic, I naturally asked him if he had any formal relationship with a church. “No, I haven’t been since…this is a small town and…” Donor J then corrected his earlier statement that religion had no impact on his philanthropy by remarking: “I suppose, Greg, it (religion) would factor in on the

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giving back. When my first wife was dying, I knew two ministers, both Presbyterian, in two different churches. They were very helpful in that whole experience, and I’ve never forgotten that. I’ve been very generous with those churches, (even) since the ministers are long gone. But the fact that they were there and went out of their way, it impressed me, that they were (there to lend) a helping hand. You know that’s one more avenue for me to give back. They were there in a time of need. Yeah. And, more than I’d ever expected, frankly.” We than chatted a bit more about his involvement with the Presbyterian church, how they recruited him as a volunteer when he and his first wife were raising the children. It seemed to then dawn on Donor J that those volunteer experiences were a substantial reason why he was where he was currently. “In fact that’s the reason we’re out here. One of the experiences (with the youth group at church) that we would take the young people at this church in the summer was to a dude ranch in Wyoming, and that was the ‘big cause.’ We would do car washes and this stuff that young people do in a church and raise money to finance the trip to the dude ranch. I’ve never forgot it, and when the time came for us to figure out what we wanted to do as part of our life, the fact of having a ranch…the fact that I had a wonderful, unforgettable experience with my kids (led to the purchase and operation of the dude ranch). The guest ranch experience is a dream and we can fulfill people’s dreams.” And how might a dude ranch fulfill people’s dreams? “It’s an unbelievable experience. They’re accomplishing things they’ve never done before, in a beautiful setting, and they’re living out this fantasy that most people never really have (a chance to live out). End of the week, you know, everybody is exchanging addresses and the last Friday camp fire, everybody’s teary…adults, children, they go out and say good-bye to their horse, the tears are falling, it’s just…oh yeah, it’s very emotional, very emotional experience…” I wanted to make sure that link between the dude ranch and the volunteer experience with the church was verifiable, so I remarked that this was as a result of his being a volunteer for his church. “Well, that’s what exposed it to me. I didn’t know it existed.” We then chatted about selling his business and how he met his current wife, and then Donor J added that “all those memories became important” when deciding how to spend the next phase of their lives. The next comment startled me: “And we’re way off the track of philanthropy…this all started because of the religion, which is how we got into the ranch part… It has nothing to do with the business, it has nothing to do with philanthropy.” After having made several important connections, I thought, between his generosity and religion, Donor J quickly dismissed the notion. I replied that: “it sort of helps to paint the portrait” as I came to realize how difficult it is to interpret an artist’s rendering, the complexity of interpreting someone’s life experiences. What is obvious to one may be hidden to another—and vice versa. My hunches about the need to interview Donor J in person proved correct.

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This chapter presents my research methodology, and I begin by discussing the theoretical underpinnings of the previously described interview, how the donor and locations to interview were chosen, the decisions about what kinds of questions and themes needed to be asked, and the reasons why I chose a qualitative methodology, specifically elite interviewing research. The context for the case study is then presented, followed by a description of the pilot study, the sample, and gaining access to the group under investigation. A discussion of the protocol I used for interviewing follows before moving to the strategies I employed in the data analysis. Discussions of validity and reliability then follow, with a concluding set of remarks concerning researcher bias. Locating a Tradition of Qualitative Inquiry As this research sought to understand more fully why major donors give to higher education and what the role of religion may or may not be within that motivational nexus, I utilized a methodology that explored in depth an individual’s philanthropic motivation. The choice of a particular methodology is always a secondary consideration to looking at the issue or “case” first; from there the researcher decides which method would be most advantageous in ascertaining the needed information (Stake, 1994, Yin, 1994). As surveyed in Chapters One and Two, any conceptualization of philanthropic motivation had to take into account a variety of competing interests and multi-faceted psychological, institutional and sociological factors. Grappling with this complexity demands that a chosen approach must allow the researcher to delve into an individual’s life history, significant relationships, and the interpretation of important events in such a way that the individual can competently express their responses to the questions posed. The connections or lack thereof among perception, autobiographical narrative and self-understanding cannot be adequately elicited in largegroup settings or surveys. Simply put, this information is extremely personal and requires time and sensitivity for its articulation. As Marshall and Rossman have noted, “The qualitative approach to research is uniquely suited to uncovering the unexpected and exploring new avenues” (1995, p. 24). Qualitative research has specific dimensions that capture human com plexity not found in other designs in terms of the ability to: integrate multiple perspectives, describe processes, understand events and develop detailed descriptions (Weiss, 1994, Marshall and Rossman, 1995). These dimensions are particularly suitable to religious inquiry because the topic of religion has received so little attention among social scientists. Given that the research questions query individual major contributors about their philanthropic motivation, I decided that a case study design using personal interviews was the most appropriate method for eliciting the kind of information that I was seeking. Yin suggests that “In general, case studies are the preferred strategy when ‘how’ or ‘why’ questions are being posed, when the investigator has little control over events, and when the focus is on a contemporary

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phenomenon within some real-life context” (1994, p. 1). Since case study research chronicles the experiences of individuals, and, as “a form of research, case study is defined by interest in individual cases, not by the methods of inquiry used” (Stake, 1994, p. 236), it was a logical and somewhat obvious choice. Specifically, the sub-category of elite interviewing was the primary methodological approach. Creswell (1997) suggests locating qualitative research in a particular “tradition” as a way of assessing methodological rigor and conceptual clarity. He delineates specific traditions while also “recognizing that several of these traditions have branched into numerous sub fields” (Creswell, 1997, p. 5). In many respects, the design of this research is a hybrid (mixed method) between case study and biographical traditions. Dimensions from both of these traditions have shaped the design so as to maximize the ability to elicit compelling information and then to interpret it wisely. This research is a collective case study; it is “instrumental” in that it is an indepth examination of an issue meant to hone (and create) theory (Stake, 1994, Yin, 1989). Stake asserts that, “Case studies are of value in refining theory and suggesting complexities for further investigation, as well as helping to establish the limits of generalizability” (1994, p. 245). The unit of analysis was the donor and the case is bounded by donors’ donations to the University of Michigan’s Capital Campaign. Since the informants were asked to comment on their life histories and “interviewees react (ed) to an open-ended question in their own words and in their own way” (Smith and Glass, 1987, p. 266), one could also refer to these interviews as “story telling,” thereby incorporating elements from the biographical tradition. In several cases, there were instances of an interviewee having an epiphany, “special events in an individual’s life that represent turning points” (Creswell, 1997, p. 232), a hallmark of the biographical tradition (Creswell, 1997). Interviewing is particularly appropriate in eliciting religious themes as it allows for discussion time and sensitivity to the issues being raised: “… the most salient connections between religious traditions and charitable behavior [which are] the narrative discourse that concretizes, objectifies, and above all personifies what it means to be charitable” (Wuthnow, 1990, p. 11). Recognizing that religion is a kind of moral discourse that allows “individuals to think and talk about their actions in selfless terms” (Wood and Houghland, 1990, p. 102), the methodological approach of interviewing captures an individual’s philanthropic narrative in an effective fashion. Interviewing allows for a “richness of information gained from people with a range of experiences and feelings about the topic” (Manning, 1992, p. 93). Elite Interviewing Dexter (1970) and Weiss (1994), suggest that interviewing forms its own qualitative tradition. Weiss (1994) elaborates a typology of interviews with

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Kvale (1996), offering a cogent definition of interviewing: “the qualitative research interview is a construction site of knowledge. An interview is literally an inter view, an interchange of views between two persons conversing about a theme of mutual interest” (p. 2). Interviewing which focuses on individuals who have substantial wealth or influence is considered “elite” interviewing, as this population, because of their status in the world, requires a different kind of access protocol than most other groups (Dexter, 1970; Hertz and Imber, 1995; Marshall and Rossman, 1995; Seidman, 1998). Elite interviewing is said to differ from other forms of interviewing in that several features of elite interviewing require involvement of the researcher in fairly unusual settings and complex dynamics (Dexter, 1970; Hertz and Imber; 1995, Marshall and Rossman; 1995, Seidman, 1998). Elite interviewing contrasts with standard interviewing practices in that “the investigator is willing, and often eager to let the interviewee teach him what the problem, the question, the situation is…” (Dexter, 1970, p. 5). Odendahl (1990), Schervish and Herman (1988), and Ostrander (1995) point out the particular problems and opportunities of researching philanthropic elites. Initially, there are power issues for some researchers—feelings of subordination; also uncomfortable surroundings and norms which are often unspoken but known among elites add to an uneasy feeling. Since relationships with philanthropic elites are highly prized in the non-profit world, the “perennial problem of gaining access to the wealthy” (Schervish and Herman, p. 14) may prove to be quite difficult. In discussing how she was able to interview her sample, Silberg (1990) needed to resort to personal referrals, for the “initial ‘cold’ writing or calling of prospective inter viewees produced insurmountable interference from their staffs” (p. 58). Pilot Study In September, 1992, the University of Michigan announced a $1.2 billion dollar Capital Campaign, the largest of any public university in the nation. In an elaborate kickoff ceremony, the “case” for the Campaign was compelling: in an era of declining state revenue, the University needed the financial support of its graduates if it were to continue as a pre-eminent higher education institution. As part of the campaign, alumni and friends would be encouraged to contribute to a host of programs, all of which collectively strengthened the University. As the M Campaign was drawing to a close, I conducted a set of pilot interviews to explore, in rough form, the themes and topics that would eventually be covered in the research. The interviews for the pilot study were organized along a semi-structured protocol with open-ended questions that allowed for long, conversational interviews. I wanted to make sure that my procedures and questioning were flexible enough to allow interviewees to respond to comments and ideas. Since the research was highly exploratory, I needed to create a protocol which would capture both the salient themes from the conceptual

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compass, while it maintained the flexibility of pursuing lines of questioning and ideas I had not anticipated. The pilot study helped to refine my own procedures and pre-test the eventual protocol. With the assistance of Mr. Roy Muir, Assistant Vice President of Development, I created a convenience sample of major donors to the University of Michigan whom I was reasonably certain would not be part of the population used for the actual study; their gifts to Michigan were large, but were under the threshold that I was considering. I conducted four pilot interviews, during which several issues arose which were theoretically and practically important. The most challenging issue was the discussion of religion. When I asked about religion as the initial or leading question, the informants tended to immediately dismiss it or otherwise curtail the conversation: “Religion didn’t play any part in our lives at all—that’s all I have to say about it.” With this kind of reaction, it became difficult to continue the interview; I had to back track to keep the conversation going as I sought to politely probe about religion once again. But when the topic of religion was embedded within the protocol—and situated in the context of the individual’s life story—there was a much warmer reception to the topic, even if the individual had little or nothing to say about the matter. I needed to leave room for personal reflections and understanding of religion, posing questions in a way that was unassuming and non judgmental. While this posture should be employed in all interviewing procedures, I felt that I also needed to use body language and terminology which were much more casual and comfortable for the discussion of this topic. Another technical issue raised by the pilot study was the venue. Three of the interviews were held over meals (two breakfasts and one dinner), but this format proved problematic (although gastronomically enjoyable). While it was both convenient and comfortable to have a meal with these alumni/ae whom I knew fairly well, issues of privacy (when speaking about personal issues in the middle of a restaurant) surfaced, as well as the difficulty of note taking. Tape recording the conversations proved more advantageous than I had originally suspected. Constructing A Sample of Philanthropists to Higher Education Because access to an educational institution’s most generous donors is extremely well guarded, interviewing these individuals is often quite difficult. Given this elite population, access is usually granted only when the researcher is affiliated with the organization; thus a one-institution study is often the most realistic option. I was particularly fortunate to have an affiliation with the University of Michigan, both as a graduate student and as a Senior Development Officer for the University of Michigan Law School. The timing of the research coincided with the successful conclusion of the Capital Campaign, resulting in a cohort of

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identifiable major donors who had recently given substantial sums to the institution. In consultation with the University’s Development Office, the parameters of the sample included as many living major donors as possible as had each contributed an outright gift of $1 million or more during the life of the Capital Campaign. The $1 million mark is a fairly standard demarcation of elite philanthropy. With these parameters in mind, the final sample was assembled by Roy Muir, the Associate Vice President of Development, who knew all of the individuals at this level. Eventually, twenty-nine donor “families” (either both spouses or one individual) were selected. Since the gift decision process often included both husband and wife, the letter of introduction was addressed, when appropriate, to both. Of the twenty-nine prospective participants, twenty-two “families” agreed, seven declined. The group consisted of 25 individuals, 22 men and 3 women. All but four were graduates of the University of Michigan. The average age was 67, with the youngest being 54 and the most senior 91. A majority of these interviewees were “self-made,” e.g., their families had not inherited wealth. Gaining Access Access to major donors requires strategies that differ from other populations (Seidman, 1998) in order to overcome what Schervish (1988) describes as the “perennial problem of gaining access to the wealthy” (p. 14). In the case of philanthropic elites, not only are they consumed by their professional obligations, but they are often heavily committed to several nonprofit organizations. “The problem of accessibility to elites is often great because they are usually busy people operating under demanding time constraints; they are also difficult to reach. The interviewer may have to rely on sponsorship, recommendations, and introductions for assistance in making appointments with elite individuals” (Marshall and Rossman, 1995, p. 83). In many respects major donors to education, (as philanthropic elites) are a specialized group, in that they have shown great interest in particular educational institutions, and have identified themselves in some capacity with that institution. Ostrower (1995) finds this particularly true about higher education. Philanthropic elites to higher education have generally received a considerable amount of attention by a variety of institutional representatives. In many respects, access to philanthropic elites in higher education is much easier when an affiliation to the institution is apparent. A letter of introduction to the research and researcher from Roy Muir, Associate Vice-President of Development, was the initial contact and was mailed in December 1997. Mr. Muir’s letter greatly assisted this affiliational status. This letter of correspondence explained the focus and significance of the study, gave an assurance of confidentiality and anonymity, and mentioned the specifics of data collection. The letter created a context in which the interviewees could

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understand the purpose of the research and the reason their involvement was important to the study. Since Roy was familiar with many of those contacted, his letter also allayed any potential fears of manipulation or breaches of confidentiality. During the winter months of 1998, I followed up each letter with a phone call, in which I answered any questions the interviewees might have concerning the study and discussed setting up a time and place in which we could meet and hold the interview. I conducted as many in-person interviews as possible and I eventually traveled to nine states over an eight-month time period. The sample of major donors was drawn from the University of Michigan, a public and therefore non-denominational institution. Although two of the University’s founders were clerics (John Monteith and Gabriel Richard), they specifically organized the University’s mission to be fully independent of any denominational ties. Thus, for individuals affiliated with the University of Michigan, inquiries into the role of religion might easily be construed as obtrusive—if not plainly odd. Conversely, responses from a religiously-diverse population might uncover important insights into the intersection of motivation, philanthropy and religion. The opportunity to pursue inquiries concerning religion and its relationship to philanthropy among such a diverse population was extraordinary. The line of questioning throughout the interviews was highly exploratory. Since the literature on motivations for philanthropy has paid scant attention to the interconnections between religion and philanthropy, the methodological approach of elite interviewing needed to be minimally structured for maximum exploration. The pilot study confirmed that the exploration of the topic of religion required enormous sensitivity as it is a highly personal topic and may be imbued with nested layers of meaning. For certain individuals, affiliations with organized religion were non-existent; questions along those lines were essentially moot. Conversely, for others, religion played such an extraordinary role that the linkage between their religious commitments and their giving to higher education was immediate and obvious. Denominational Overview of the Sample In terms of their denominational affiliation, I have categorized their affiliations according to their response to the question: “Tell me about your relationship with organized religion” by using content analysis and categorization. Table A-1: Denominational Affiliation of the Sample Men Women

Jewish 8 0

Christian 9 3

Non-Affiliated 5 0

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Within the major categories of affiliations are sub-sectors that differ significantly enough from each other that they are referred to distinctively. Within the Jewish group, for example, individuals identified themselves as either Reform or Conservative, both groups of which understand aspects of their Judaism differently than the Orthodox. This sample of Jewish philanthropists may retain certain biases in how they interpret and view their being Jewish. For the Christian group, all were from a mainline Protestant heritage, with the exception of one Roman Catholic, who was an adult convert from a Protestant denomination, and one individual who had been affiliated with the Christian Reform Church. The mainline Protestant heritage in America, tends to be more liberal than other Protestant denominations, (such as Assemblies of God or the Dutch Christian Reform) or Roman Catholicism. For the non-affiliated, most were at one time affiliated with a Protestant denomination. After an initial answer to the primary conceptual questions, I present the evidence behind that response by discussing the role of religion and by organizing the responses loosely around denominations. This way of organizing the materials was selected because individuals in a given religious tradition share many of the same values and experiences. Also, American society, particularly in the early to mid part of the twentieth century, defined itself through the lens of religious denominations and these affiliations greatly influenced their worldview and self-identification. Collection of Data The interviewer, in many respects, serves as the primary vehicle through which the data will be transmitted. The role of the researcher in qualitative approaches is considered strategic, “an instrument of data collection who gathers words or pictures, analyzes them inductively, focuses on the mean ing of participants, and describes a process that is expressive and persuasive in language” (Creswell, 1997, p. 14). The researcher must also attend to some specific and practical concerns in data collection. For example, I sought the consent of the interviewees through a standardized consent form, asking permission to re-interview for any further questioning and accuracy of interpretation. I tape recorded the interviews with a micro-cassette recorder and took handwritten notes as well. The interviews were transcribed by an independent transcriber and eventually coded into the qualitative software package named “NUD*IST” (Non-numerical, unstructured, data indexing, searching and theorizing.) The program was extremely useful in organizing and sorting through the transcripts, as well as editing when appropriate. Protocol: Topic and Themes Several qualitative researchers suggest that in a truly exploratory investigation the researcher should bring no previously conceived ideas or thoughts about the

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topic to the setting (Lincoln & Guba, 1985). While there may be some conceptual strengths to this position, the more mundane aspects of qualitative research overshadowed this perspective. Since there already exists some reliable information concerning altruism and philanthropic giving, as well as the practicality of having only one session with an “elite” grouping, I thought it best to semistructure the interviews and incorporated salient themes when those themes would help to move the interview along. Marshall and Rossman contend that, Typically, qualitative in-depth interviews are much more like conversations than formal events with predetermined response categories. The researcher explores a few general topics to help uncover the participant’s meaning perspective, but otherwise respects how the participants frames and structures the responses. This, in fact, is an assumption fundamental to qualitative research—the participant’s perspective on the phenomenon of interest should unfold as the participant views it, not as the researcher views it (1995, p. 80). As the topic of religion is an extremely personal one, the committee was concerned that the theme of religion should be accessed within the general topic of philanthropic motivation. Their concern mirrored my experience in the pilot interviews. This was not a decision to dilute the theme of religion; rather the committee and I agreed that the context for the individual’s philanthropy, once understood, would more easily lead to the topic of religion, particularly as this research looks at religion from a sociological perspective. Since the University of Michigan is a public and thus non-sectarian institution, questions about religion could be interpreted to be so far out of the normal relationship with the University as to be misunderstood as conceptually odd, or at worst, intrusive. As this research focuses on major donors to higher education, there was also an opportunity to ask questions about the role of higher education in an individual’s philanthropy, a topic rarely addressed in prior research (and one of logical interest to the University’s advancement office). The topics and themes discussed in the interview were broached primarily for their ability to explore dimensions of generosity and altruism as they relate to philanthropy to higher education, and to create an environment where the discussion of how religion may or may not interact with an individual’s motivations for philanthropy. The protocol was organized around questions which would uncover general questions about motivation, with more specifically focused questions around themes most salient to altruism, e.g., the role of parents and role models in the donor’s life as well as questions related to religion. These topics were written into the protocol to allow a consistency in the covering of all of the details of the interview. While all general themes were discussed in the interviews, not all questions were necessarily covered during each interview; the order varied slightly from interview to interview. Much depended upon both the formal feedback from the interviewee (in the language

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and nature of the responses) as well as my ongoing interpretations of those responses, including body language, tonality, demeanor and other environmental factors. As a semi-structured and exploratory interview, I broached some but not all of these topics and found that repeating all or parts of a pertinent question within the context of another theme allowed for further nuance clarification. The protocol acted as a methodological “assist” throughout the interviews. For example, it reminded me of important details which needed to be broached in introduction, such as asking if the respondent understood the dimensions of the study, and providing an initial “thank you” for their time (as the interview was replacing some other important task the individual could be completing.) While most of the interviewees understood the purpose of the interview, several individuals asked me to review the purpose, and still others had explicit comments and questions concerning the topic of religion. Analysis of the Data Creswell (1997) remarks that “…no consensus exists for the analysis of the forms of qualitative data” (p. 140) and as the researcher must come to the transcripts with “an open attitude, seeking what emerges as important and of interest from the text” (Seidman, 1998, p. 100), I approached the data analysis as an inductive process. That is, I addressed the material without a set of hypotheses to test or without a theory developed in another context to which I wished to match the data. (Glaser & Strauss, 1967). Kvale (1996) reminds us that “the purpose of the qualitative research interview has been depicted as the description and interpretation of themes in the subjects lived world. A continuum exists between description and interpretation” (p. 187). Eisenhardt (1989) warns that the nature of qualitative research is such that “no technique like factor analysis is available to collapse multiple indicators into a single construct measure. The reasons are that the indicators may vary across cases (i.e., not all cases may have all measures) and qualitative evidence (which is common in theory-building research) is difficult to collapse” (p. 542). In discussing the role of data analysis in qualitative research, Feldman (1995) notes that If one were to adopt an analytical framework prior to gathering data, it could greatly simplify and possibly shorten the data gathering process. One must, however, resist this temptation. Succumbing to it may considerably reduce the effectiveness of the research as it may reduce the ability of the researcher to understand the relevant phenomena from the perspectives of the members of the culture. (p. 64). Essentially, qualitative data analysis is an iterative process, as the researcher goes back and forth among questions, data, themes and subthemes, searching for

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the most accurate interpretation possible. This iterative process reflects several features that are recognized by Kvale (1996), Creswell (1997), and Maxwell (1996) and I analyzed the data as follows: • Describing the topics and themes related to the research questions and emergence of new themes and relationships during the interview, especially those ideas or thoughts which were emphasized, e.g., repetition, emotion, tonality; • Condensing and interpreting the responses during the interview, which allowed for immediate feedback of interpretation from the interviewees; • Reading the interview transcripts, which included note making in the margins, re-listening to interviews for precision and clarification; • Creating and organizing of the files for the data on NUD*IST, the qualitative software program; • Clarifying the material (cleaning the text for repetitions, superfluous comments, etc.); • Developing the meaning of the interviews by “categorical aggregation” viz., coding and establishing patterns of categories; • Structuring of the patterns along relevant themes and emerging ideas through open coding; • Re-interviewing for further clarification and • Having an external audit performed. In an analysis of data, Merriam (1998) states, “the level of analysis can result in little more than a unified description across cases; it can lead to categories, themes or typologies that conceptualize the data from all the cases; or it can result in building substantive theory offering an integrated framework covering multiple cases” (p. 195). I analyzed each case independently, then I performed a cross-case analysis: “A qualitative, inductive, multicase study seeks to build abstractions across cases.” The researcher attempts to “build a general explanation that fits each of the individual cases, even though the cases will vary in their details” (Yin, p. 112, in Merriam , p. 195, 1998). Data analysis on this level seeks to reduce the data inductively, independent of any hypotheses or previous theories. I then proceeded to interpret (as Eisenhardt suggests, and as is fairly standard) between-group differences, organizing along denominational lines for the discussion of the role of religion. Geertz’s (1973) point about generalizingparticularly in an exploratory, qualitative project is worth remembering: “the essential task of theory building here is not to codify abstract regularities but to make thick description possible, not to generalize across cases but to generalize within them” (p. 26). In interpreting the comments concerning non-religious matters, the themes are clustered in the presentations that flowed from the protocol. I looked for patterns and topics that emerged as “significant”—through repetition, emotion or a researcher’s intuition.

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Ascertaining Qualitative Understanding Understanding is the primary goal of qualitative research. How a researcher defines understanding and one decides on ensuring its accuracy are significant methodological concerns. Maxwell (1996) contends that there are three types of understanding in qualitative studies: descriptive, interpretative and theoretical. The main threat to descriptive understanding is “the inaccuracy or incompleteness of the data” (p. 89). According to Maxwell, this is solved by audio recording and verbatim transcription. As mentioned earlier, all of the interviews were recorded and then professionally transcribed. For interpretative understanding, the main threat “is imposing one’s own framework or meaning, rather than understanding the perspective of the people studied and the meanings they attach to their words and actions” (pp. 89–90), and this occurs when the interviewer is “not listening for the participants’ meanings; …asking leading, closed or short answer questions that don’t give participants the opportunity to reveal their own perspective” (p. 90). I addressed this threat by asking many open-ended questions and using a summation technique at the end of each interview, particularly for those that were rather complex. The most serious threat to theoretical understanding is not collecting or paying attention to discrepant data, as well as not considering alternative explanations or understandings of the phenomena one is studying (p. 90). Threats to theoretical validity are very difficult to overcome, precisely because the nature of qualitative research is based on the interpretation of the data (or experience) by the researcher. I note Stake’s (1994) position that a researcher cannot disconnect one-self from one’s own consciousness: “However moved to share ideas, however clever and elaborated their writings, case researchers, as others, pass along to readers some of their personal meanings of events and relationships—and fail to pass along others” (pp. 240–241). Threats to Validity and Reliability According to Maxwell (1996) bias and reactivity are two primary threats to validity and he argues that qualitative researchers generally deal with these threats as particular events or processes that could lead to invalid conclusions, rather than as generic variables that need to be controlled. Boyatzis (1998) uses “consistency of judgment” to refer to reliability. Consistency of judgment appears in two basic forms: (a) consistency of judgment among various viewers; and (b) consistency of judgment over time, events, and settings (p. 147). External Checks As a way of ensuring reliability and controlling the threats to validity/ verification, I employed two exploring procedures: triangulation and an external

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audit. Through a series of interviews with the Major Gifts Officers assigned to the interviewees, I triangulated the data through the use of multiple and different sources. The results of these interviews are discussed in Chapter Four. Additionally, my interpretations and categorical analysis of the interviews were reviewed by a fellow graduate student. By performing this type of “external audit,” I dealt with issues of researcher bias, that is, the selection of data that fit my existing theories or preconceptions or that stood out for me. According to Smith and Glass, “External checks, another form of triangulation, involve inviting another researcher to observe the case directly or read and categorize the data record to see in convergent propositions could be reached by a second observer” (1987, p. 275). During the months of March and April, 1999, the external auditor read all of the interviews looking for consistency in framing the conceptual questions (reliability) as well as my interpretations of the essential themes of each interview (validity or verification). The auditor was in 100% agreement with the consistency of the conceptual questions and 94% agreement with the verification of my interpretations. It should be noted that she did not so much disagree with my interpretations, but rather added those which she thought were important which I had passed over. The problem herein is that you can’t eliminate any researcher’s theories nor is it appropriate to try to standardize the researcher to achieve reliability: Qualitative research is not primarily concerned with eliminating variance between researchers in the values and expectations they bring to the study, but with understanding how a particular researcher’s values influence the conduct and conclusions of the study. Explaining your possible biases and how you will deal with these is a key task of your research proposal. As one qualitative researcher, Fred Hess (personal communication), has phrased it, validity in qualitative research is not the result of indifference, but of integrity (Maxwell, 1996, p. 91). The second major threat is reactivity, “the influence of the researcher on the setting…a problem generally known as reactivity…is often raised in qualitative studies…eliminating the actual influence of the researcher is impossible (Hammersley & Atkinson, 1983), and the goal in a qualitative study is not to eliminate this influence but to understand it and to use it productively” (Maxwell, 1996, p. 91). I grappled with reactivity by firstly acknowledging it and then again through my interpretative schema in Chapter Seven. “For interviews…reactivity is a powerful and inescapable influence; what the informant says is always a function of the interviewer and the interview situation…what is important is to understand how you are influencing what the informant says, and how this affects the validity of the inferences you can draw from the interview” (Maxwell, 1996, p. 91).

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Limitations of the Study Many of the limitations of this study are those fairly common to qualitative research. Perhaps the most important limitation is the inability to generalize from this sample to a broader population. Add the dimensions of age, gender, and social economic status as youth, the sample is so specialized that discussing broad themes from these research findings is difficult. “A common complaint about case studies is that it is difficult to generalize from one case to another. Thus, analysts fall into the trap of trying to select a ‘representative’ case or set of cases. Yet no set of cases, no matter how large, is likely to deal satisfactorily with the complaint. The problem lies in the very notion of generalizing to other case studies (Yin, 1994, p. 37). But more importantly, the stories and reflections were so personal that generalizing would cheapen the potency and beauty of the interviewees’ lives. So I followed Yin’s suggestion that “an analyst should try to generalize findings to ‘theory,’ analogous to the way a scientist generalizes from experimental results to theory. (Yin, 1994, p. 37). The major donors interviewed are clearly a distinctive group, both in financial assets as well as personality orientation and generational experiences. The sample was lacking representatives of other major faiths, e.g., Catholics, Muslims, Buddhist, fundamentalist and evangelical Christian. Among Jewish responses Orthodox voices were not represented. The Experience of Interviewing Philanthropic Elites Having the opportunity to discuss very personal and sensitive issues with a group of philanthropists was a wonderful experience. Part of the enjoyment of the process was the fact that the individuals with whom I spoke care very deeply about the institution which I was researching. Their attitude toward the university was consistently one of gratitude, showing genuine concern, interest, and admiration for the University, even when there may have been a disagreement with a particular stance or program the University sponsored. The overall disposition of those I interviewed was extremely favorable. Access to the group was fairly easy, given the introductory letter that was sent on my behalf. Perhaps the most rewarding part of the experience were the instances where the individual either recalled the importance of a generous gift or interpreted life’s experiences in a way which hadn’t previously been considered. These were often “epiphanies,” enabling someone to recognize a way in which they had been recipients of generosity of which they were previously unaware. Sensitivity Toward Perceptions of Goodness Affiliation with institutional religion does not, of course, define levels or qualities of personal goodness. But there is a remarkable sensitivity, especially among a generation of adults who grew up in the first-half of the twentieth

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century, that those who attended services were necessarily “better” than those who did not participate. One aspect of being “good” was attending religious services, particularly in the Protestant main-line community. This became strikingly clear during the interview with “Donor E” who became somewhat annoyed during the course of the interview; he thought that this research was looking for a formulaic connection between religion and philanthropy. He commented that: “I just don’t like your idea of tying it with church. We’re trying to make a difference and help people and I think with a lot of people that, that really comes down to seeing the benefit directly.” When I explained that the interview was exploratory, which meant that I did not come to the table with that or any other hypotheses, he accepted my response. Researcher Bias. The above incident made clear to me that however nonbiased, non-judgmental and scholarly I hoped to be, I would inevitably be perceived as having a perspective on religion because of my religious affiliation and to a minimal extent, ethnicity. (My Italian ethnicity points strongly toward Catholicism, although that is not necessarily the case with all Italians). Eisner, 1998, suggests that “the self as an instrument” is con stitutive of qualitative research, attempting to “make sense” of the situation. (p. 33–34). Feldman remarks that often a difficulty in interpreting qualitative data is not in learning how to create interpretations but in learning how to get away from preestablished interpretations (1995, p. 64). Since I come at the data from a theological vantage point dissimilar to my interviewees, I cannot help but believe that the dissimilarity in denominational affiliation is actually a strength in analysis and interpretation. If that was not the case, the external auditor, the multiple reading of the data, the member checks during the interviews and the reinterviews ensured methodological soundness.

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Index

academic administrators implications for, 119–120 alumni re-engaging disaffected alumni, 120 attitudinal forces in motivations for giving, 66–69 compassion, 67 emotional attributes, 66 essential considerations, 68–69 obligation, 67 selfishness, 68 autobiographical themes in motivations for giving, 59–70 cataclysmic events, 63–64 death of a parent, 64–65 generosity of the local community, 62 Great Depression, 64 overall family atmosphere, 60 role models for generosity, 61–62 advancement programs encouraging philanthropy, 46–58 establishing a habit, 51–52 executive committees, 48–50 inheriting a philanthropic tradition, 47– 48 institutional leadership, 50–51 volunteerism, 48 American society and the philanthropic spirit, 5 attribution theory, habitual actions, 22 application to higher education philanthropy, 22 altruism, 6, 16–22, 32–33 and philanthropic motivation, 16–22 attribution theory/habitual actions, 22

and application to higher education, 22 bystander behavior, 18 cost/benefit analysis, 19 economic approaches, 18 and application to higher education, 19 emergency behavior, 18 enlarging the definition of, 17 exchange theory, 19 and application to higher education, 20 helping behavior, 17 parental nurturing and role modeling, 21–22 and application to higher education, 22 “pure” vs. “selfish,” 17 reciprocal, 20 and application to higher edu-cation, 21 self-interest, 19 situational, 17 and application to higher edu-cation, 18 Baptists affiliation with, 105 Boorstin, Daniel, 3 Bremner, Robert, 4 Brittingham and Pezzullo, 120 Carnegie, Andrew, 30 cataclysmic events, 63–64 Catholics 152

INDEX 153

lack of, in sample, 105 role of Catholic spouses, 105 charity as contrasted with philanthropy, 4–5 definition of, 5 Christian Reform Church example of ethnicity and religion, 101– 103 church and Higher Education intersection of, 103 Christianity, 28–29, 79–84, 115 and charity, 28 and compassion, 104–106 as institutional orientation, 79–80 conscience formation, 80–81 encouraging generosity, 83–84 and philanthropy, 29 collection of data, 138 Coles, Robert, 24 Cook, William W. excerpt from his last will, 35 generosity to the University of Michigan, 35 Cresswell, John, 133–134, 140 data analysis of, 140–142 Depression the Great, 64 Dutch Reform Church see Christian Reform Church Development officers as professionals, 51–52 creating philanthropists, 52 expertise of, 51–55 interviews with, 55–56 diversity as a learning and socialization opportunity, 45 disagreement with University of Michigan’s position on, 45 donor considerations essential aspects, 68–69 Durkheim, E, 23 DeTocqueville, A, 3–4 elite interviewing, 134

epilogue, 128 executive committees, 48 extracurricular experiences fraternity life, 44 exposure to diversity, 45 exchange theory, 20 Fowler, James, 24 Freud, Sigmund bias against religion, 24 Geertz, Clifford, 23, 71–73, 100 Gibson, Burr, 71 giving to colleges and universities, 2. See philanthropy. goals for philanthropy, 65 Great Awakening, 30 Greeley, Andrew, 13 habitual giving, 51, 112 Harvard University early financing of, 30 Harvard Hymn, 109 Herberg, Will, 107 Higher education institutional quality, 37 identification with, 2, 110–111 Hodgkinson, Virginia, 7 Hodgkinson & Weitzman, 8 influences, formative family and formation of values, 113 cataclysmic events, 113 Judaism, 26–27, 73–79, 114–115 and justice, 26 as ethnicity, 73–75, 103–104 compassion and justice, 75–76 degrees of charity, 26 ethnic survival of, 27 extraordinary generosity of Jewish community, 27 giving as obligation, 26 philanthropy and volunteer lead-ership, 76–77 shift in philanthropy, 118–119 tzedakah, 26

154 INDEX

network of agencies, 27 value of education, 78–79 Zionism and the Holocaust, 77–78 Jung, Carl, 24 Kvale, S, 140 limitations of the study, 144–145 leadership, institutional as impacting philanthropy, 50 Mather, Cotton, 29 methodology, research, 129–146 qualitative, 132–134 McCarty, Oseola, 1, 128 major donors as small minority of givers, 2 engaging them, 111–123 expectations of involvement, 49 expectations of treatment, 49–50 shift in giving, 118 mentors, 111 Methodist Church donation to, as example of philanthropy, 89–90 modeling theory, 22 motivations for philanthropy research the, 5 analogy to golf clubs, 15 New England’s First Fruits, 30 Oliner, S., 21 Odendahl, T., 9 Ostrower, S., 9 Ostrander, S. and Schervish, R, 7 pilot study, 134–135 philanthropic motivation, 5–10 overview of, 6 study of, 6 as dynamic and interactive, 9 as a multi-layered concept, 5 philanthropic signs and symbols, 109–128 philanthropy and search for major donors, 3 as a social relation, 7

as distinguished from charity, 5 as dissimilar to charitable assis-tance, 4 as “prudent sister of charity,” 4 definition of, 5 impact on higher education, 2 spirituality of, 1124–126 symbolic nature of, 127 parental nurturing and role modeling, 21 predictors of alumni giving, 6 presentation of the study, 12–13 Pezzullo, T. and Brittingham, B., 10 Prince, R. and File, K., 8–9 qualitative understanding, 142–143 protocol used in research, 139–140 research, future avenues religion and philanthropy, 123 cataclysmic events, 123 gender and religion, 123 donor research, 124 generational impact of philanthropy, 124 religion and American pluralism, 25 and anthropology, 23 and faith, 24 and giving, 11–12 and gender, 116 and the sacred, 23 and the non-affiliated, 84–85, 105–106, 116 definition of, 72 denominations, 23 variability of, as a source of motivation, 22–25, 114 intersection with ethnicity, 100–103 and philanthropy, 2, 10–12, 100–107 role models for generosity, 61–62 Rockefeller, John, 31 sample, construction of, 136 gaining access, 136 denominational overview, 138 spirituality of philanthropy, 124–126 stewardship of gifts, 112

INDEX 155

symbolic nature of philanthropy, 127 scholarships impact on motivations for giving back, 46 Small Town in Mass Society, 4 Schervish, Paul, 7 Silberg, C. 9–10 themes, emergent for the research institutional endeavors favoring philanthropy, 94–97 development programs and professional service, 94096 interest driven philanthropy, 96 major donor—major gifts officer, 96– 97 autobiographical forces, 97 role of the family, 98 role of the local community, 98 cataclysmic events, 98 scholarships, 98–99 economic hardships and relationship to gratitude, 99 obligation to give, 99 emotions surrounding giving, 99–100 institutional characteristics, 91–94 education as a critical value, 91 University of Michigan, 91 theorizing on the role of religion and philanthropy, 107 third sector, 3 Turner, Ted, 1 tzedakah, 76 undergraduate experiences excellent overall experiences, 42 introduction to the intellectual life, 43 role of faculty mentorship and involvement, 43 University of Michigan as a well run organization, 38 role in educating and advancing society, 38–39 role in the state and community, 40–41, 109–110 tradition of quality education, 92–94 intellectual experiences at, 92

extracurricular experiences at, 92 affirmative action/diversity, 93 scholarships to, 93 identification with, 93 role of research, 38 quality of programs, 40 voluntary associations, 4 volunteer committees, 111–112 Whitefield, Rev. George, 31 Winthrop, John, 4 Wuthnow, Robert, 6–7 women and religion, 85–86 Yankelovich, Skelly & White, 7