The Charity Market and Humanitarianism in Britain, 1870–1912 explores the relationship between turn-of-the-century philanthropy and the seemingly opposed realm of capitalist enterprise. This collaborative endeavor of three colleagues at the University of Manchester, Sarah Roddy, Julie-Marie Strange, and Bertrand Taithe, convincingly demonstrates that philanthropists wielded the same techniques as businessmen, and even that charity workers could, at times, take the lead in market innovation.
Like other historians of humanitarian effort, such as F. K. Prochaska, Rebecca Gill, and Seth Koven, the authors of this book demonstrate a sensitivity to the competitive forces that shaped the nineteenth- and early twentieth-century charitable market. Indeed, they focus almost exclusively on the competitive aspects of charitable giving, tracing continuities between early twentieth-century philanthropy and the innovations of our current third sector, rather than retracing the movement from private philanthropy to the welfare state. This is a welcome focus, and one they buttress with exhaustive archival research, as they allow their documentary materials to drive their historical narrative. They do not present a systematic overview of the characteristics associated with business enterprise or attempt to argue that earlier charitable organizations exhibited them all. Rather, they are selective in their coverage, focusing only on those aspects of business effort best elaborated by their research material.
The book's premise rests on the claim that around the year 1870 the practice of philanthropy in Britain took a decisive turn toward aligning its methods with those of for-profit enterprises—expanding one's customer (donor) base, utilizing new technologies for advertising and promotion, integrating marketable goods into fund-raising techniques, and developing individual brands. One could argue, and the authors do concede, that earlier business models had shaped philanthropic efforts equally profoundly—eighteenth century subscription charities modeled on joint stock companies are one notable example. Yet Roddy, Strange, and Taithe make a strong case that the latter decades of the nineteenth century saw a growth of innovative turns in business models that forward-thinking philanthropists fully embraced.
The first chapter lays the groundwork for the concept of “charity enterprise,” focusing on the business techniques of three widely varied organizations—the Salvation Army, Barnardo's Homes, and the Manchester Wood Street Mission. The authors demonstrate that each of these charities innovated in its own way to promote its interests and add to its donor pool. Chapter 2 continues this work by exploring what the authors term the “purchase-triggered donation.” Philanthropies offered goods and entertainment for purchase, with the proceeds going to charity. These goods would compete directly with the products from for-profit enterprises, enabling philanthropic organizations to use their charitable appeal to outcompete their capitalist rivals. These efforts could only be successful when philanthropists developed and maintained clear brand strategies, the topic of chapter 3. Savvy use of visual and verbal signs allowed a charity to craft a unique identity, and then promote and protect it using strategic use of branding instruments such as logos, seals, mottos, and slogans. Although the written explanations of these examples are sufficiently clear, this section would have benefited from a few key illustrations.
Of course, benevolent institutions do not always have altruistic motives or effects, and this was certainly as true in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries as it is now. Chapter 4 examines what happened when the techniques elaborated in the first three chapters were used to ill effect. Because the state had not begun to regulate charities, issues of accountability had to be adjudicated on an informal basis. How were donors to discriminate between financially responsible and fraudulent organizations in a confusingly complex market? The authors’ answers to this question generate one of the most compelling sections of the book, as they trace the informal self-regulatory measures that eventually generated a workable definition of charitable fraud. Along the way, they reveal the integral role the press played in efforts to curtail fraud, and explore the consequences for small charities without the resources to adhere to the developing norms of charitable accountability. (An earlier version of this chapter appeared in volume 54, no. 1 of Journal of British Studies.)
For those organizations well equipped to navigate the emerging enterprise culture of charity work, their efforts could reach a national and even international scale. Such was the case for two influential charities explored in the final two chapters. The authors argue that the Stafford House Committee, whose members included both British and overseas aristocracy and businessmen, harnessed a traditional patrician method of conducting charity work but integrated their efforts with their own business interests in ways that reveal the mutual dependence of the two. The authors interpret Mansion House appeals, on the other hand, as relying on a proto-franchising methodology, a type of social franchising. This is an ironic twist, as these direct calls for funds from the Lord Mayor of London would appear to be one of the most traditional types of modern almsgiving.
Altogether, the book offers a compelling reexamination of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century philanthropic field. It will be of interest not only to historians of philanthropy and social reform, but also to business historians and, perhaps most importantly, to those currently involved in nonprofit work. Roddy, Strange, and Taithe have taken seriously the stated aim of the Humanitarian and Conflict Response Institute, of which Taithe serves as a director, to relate academic work with current humanitarian endeavor.
