Since writing this piece, I have found a nonprofit that does exactly what it says it will do with your $50! Say “hello” to UNICEF Canada and consider checking out their website by clicking here.
I have complex feelings about “what a dollar buys” statements.
“$50 covers the cost of a backpack full of books for a kiddo in our pre-k program”
“$100 will cure 25 people of Polio in developing countries”
“$250 will pay for the boarding costs of 10 dogs in our no-kill shelter for a week”
On the one hand, they work great for driving donations. Who wouldn’t want to pay to help kids, cure diseases, and save dogs?!
On the other hand, they distort the reality of how nonprofits work and make it increasingly difficult for them to raise funds to increase their capacity or cover overhead.
Tying specific dollar amounts to tangible aspects of your work allows donors to feel like they are making a direct impact. It gives them a sense of agency, i.e., a “feeling of control over actions and their consequences.”
Studies show that when people feel a high sense of agency (or control), they are more likely to convince themselves to take action.
This effect is why getting people to take action to stop climate change is so hard. People feel like what they’re doing isn’t making an impact. The effect of your reusable straw isn’t making a tangible difference in the grand scheme of things.
To transition this back to fundraising, donating $50 to do something ambiguous like “teach kids how to read” puts control in the hands of a nonprofit organization, which is increasingly less trusted by society, and reduces the chances of someone taking action.
Conversely, donating $50 to “buy a backpack full of books for pre-students” frames the donor as the one handing out free books, thereby giving them a sense of agency and making it more likely they’ll tell themselves that donating is a good investment.
Unless a nonprofit has the most complex accounting system ever, statements like “$50 buys a backpack of books” are misleading at best and outright lies at worst.
Restricted funds are a thing. If someone donates $10,000 to buy a nonprofit a new van, those funds should be used to buy a new van.
Issues arise when “what a dollar buys” statements are used for lower-level donations to a general fundraising campaign. A common example is the different donation levels associated with nonprofit giving days.
Most likely, the nonprofit does not have separate funds and account codes set up for every level in its suite of “what a dollar buys” statements. Instead, the money goes into the general fund or towards a specific program budget, which pays for staff, utilities, insurance, and, yes, sometimes backpacks full of books.
If for some reason the nonprofit does have funds set up for each statement’s level, it restricts the gift towards a specific purpose, limiting innovation and potentially pulling funds away from less appealing aspects of the nonprofit’s work, such as the poor accounting department has to track exactly how much money the organization has to spend on backpacks.
Also, $50 may not actually buy a backpack full of books. What kind of backpack? Which books? Are we taking overhead and personnel costs into account? I realize these questions are specific to the backpack example, but it gets even more complicated for statements about diseases and shelters.
Finally, donors are not actually the ones giving away the backpacks. The nonprofit’s staff and volunteers are and it isn’t fair to them to leave them out of the equation. We’re already underpaying nonprofit employees. Let’s not add insult to injury by not recognizing them for their hard work, too.
If a donor wanted to give a backpack full of books to a kid, they should buy one themselves, find a kid, and give it to them. However, this is unrealistic for most and impossible to scale, hence why nonprofits exist.
These are just my personal thoughts about the topic. There are many other reasons why these statements are troubling, which you can read about on NonprofitAF.
“What a dollar buys” statements work and one could argue that, despite their shortcomings, they are still moving funds towards good causes so we shouldn’t abandon them altogether.
If you’re actually raising money to buy backpacks full of books and know it costs $50 for each one (with overhead and personnel taken into account!), go ahead and use those statements!
If you’re raising money to support a program that includes backpack distribution but doesn’t necessarily need funds to buy backpacks, your messaging will need to be a bit more nuanced.
Instead of “$50 buys a backpack full of books,” you could try “Donate $50 to be a part of a program that gives away 250 backpacks full of books to kids in need” or “$50 supports our amazing team as they give away over 250 backpacks each year.”
By focusing on the program at large and highlighting the contributions of the nonprofit’s team, you can show donors the greater picture and make them feel like they are a part of something bigger than themselves while avoiding restrictive or misleading statements.
Plus, you’ll be giving nonprofit staff the recognition they deserve and the resources they need to keep the lights on.
I’m positive I will be a part of projects that use “what a dollar buys” statements (Again, they work), so I cannot in good conscience ask you to stop using them. What I can ask is that, when they come up in conversation, you bring up their issues and urge your team to try another tactic so that we can accurately depict the complexity and scope of nonprofits’ work.
About the Author
Joe Kirkenir is passionate about raising funds to bring life-changing programs to his community, coordinating initiatives to help countless exploited animals, connecting people with amazing causes they care about, and forming powerful relationships with inspiring individuals. He is all about making great things possible. Joe lives in Lancaster, PA, with his newly minted bride and their two resident kitty cats.
Comments