Since the 1990s, the study of philanthropy and nonprofit management has been a growth area in higher education. According to Roseanne Mirabella, more than 250 American colleges and universities offer such programs, with more than half providing graduate degrees (“University-Based Educational Programs in Nonprofit Management and Philanthropic Studies: A Ten-Year Review and Projections of Future Trends,” Nonprofit and Voluntary Sector Quarterly 36 [no. 4 suppl., 2007: 11S-27S]). A growing number of international schools have established centers for teaching and research on philanthropy as well.
With some notable exceptions, such as Lester Salamon and Steven Rathgeb Smith, however, political scientists have played little role in this growth. Instead, the field has been dominated by economists, sociologists, historians, legal scholars, public policy researchers, and a wide variety of professionals with experience in the nonprofit sector. Although Francis Fukuyama, Robert D. Putnam, Jeffrey Berry, and Theda Skocpol, among others, have published influential books on civil associations, the political scientist whose writing on the topic is most often read by students may still be Alexis de Tocqueville, whose account in Democracy in America remains a starting point in philanthropy and nonprofit management programs.
The publication of Philanthropy in Democratic Societies is, perhaps, a sign that this is changing and that political scientists are paying new attention to the influence of the nonprofit sector in public life. According to the editors, Rob Reich, Chiara Cordelli, and Lucy Bernholz, the purpose of the volume is to address the nature of philanthropic power, its relationship to government and the market, and the place it should have in democratic countries, defined in Tocquevillean fashion as those committed to equality as the central political principle.
The product of an interdisciplinary “conversation,” the volume includes contributions from legal scholars, sociologists, and historians, as well as political scientists (though only two appear to have had significant professional experience in the nonprofit sector). Several of the ten loosely connected chapters deal with the historical and philosophical roots of philanthropy, while others address institutional and policy concerns. A third set explores the normative issue: What should philanthropy do in a democratic society? In various ways, all conclude that the prospect of very wealthy donors using their money to shape educational, health, environmental, or other kinds of public policies is problematic.
Ironically, as the historical chapters by Jonathan Levi and Olivier Zunz show, the relationship between democratic governance and private philanthropic efforts did not always seem strained. In recounting the development of chartering laws in the United States, Levi reports that corporations were originally expected to serve “republican,” that is public, ends, as well as the interests of their shareholders. But the ascent of “liberal” political philosophies, particularly Herbert Spencer’s Social Darwinism, which distinguished between “egoistic” and “altruistic” forms of behavior—between business and philanthropy, in other words—produced an ideological tension that has yet to be resolved, although former Hewlett Foundation president Paul Brest tries to do so in his contribution.
To Zunz likewise, philanthropy was once seen as an inseparable part of American democracy, as Tocqueville had observed. However, starting with progressive interpreters of history, such as Charles Beard, who emphasized the influence of economic interests on American politics, its role began to look more subversive. This interpretation can still be seen in criticisms of the influence of “dark money” on research and public policy (see Jane Mayer, Dark Money: The Hidden History of the Billionaires behind the Rise of the Radical Right, 2016).
In his own chapter, Reich also finds reason to doubt that the generosity of the wealthy serves the public good in the contemporary United States. The political preferences of the very rich, he notes, generally differ from those of ordinary citizens. As a result, the causes and programs they support will do little (if anything) to offset the failures of government to provide services that the public wants or needs. Reich makes an exception, though, for what he calls the “discovery” role of philanthropy. Since they are not accountable to the short-term pressures of the ballot box, donors (and the foundations through which they operate) can pursue sophisticated projects that lack political appeal or require long-term commitments, a valuable service in a democracy. But this is not a novel insight; a 1960s Rockefeller-funded commission, for example, referred to “autonomous islands of private philanthropy” as sources of venture capital for social change (The Commission on Foundations and Private Philanthropy, Foundations, Private Giving, and Public Policy, 1970, p. 20). But what Reich does add is an argument that to perform this role well, donors must be able to commit substantial resources over a long period of time. He argues that public policy should therefore encourage only very large and professionalized grant makers, such as the Ford Foundation, rather than the multitude of smaller organizations that, in fact, make up most of the American philanthropic landscape.
Other contributors to the volume would add a caveat to this analysis. Aaron Horvath and Walter W. Powell contend that the kinds of ultra-rich, expert-driven foundations favored by Reich are so potentially disruptive to democratic governance that they should be placed under some sort of community oversight. Similarly, Ray D. Madoff would restrict the “unlimited accumulation” (p. 177) of philanthropic dollars in foundations and other types of funds unless strict requirements for timely spending of the money were in force.
The final section of the volume consists of essays by three political philosophers, aimed at identifying the obligations of philanthropy in a democratic society. Each reaches a different conclusion. For Eric Beerbohm, rather than redistribute resources to the needy, which government can usually do better, donors should direct their efforts to overcoming what he calls the “free provider” problem (p. 216). This refers to the unwillingness of citizens to participate in public work, which could ultimately undermine self-governance. On the other hand, using a Rawlsian perspective, Cordelli concludes that philanthropists should pursue “reparative justice” (p. 255 ), correcting for inequalities in public services or discriminatory legal rights that political institutions have failed to address and for which donors (as well as everybody else) are therefore collectively liable. Ryan Pevnick winds up in between these positions, seeing a need for philanthropists in a regime seriously committed to achieving social justice to concentrate on supporting important “cultural projects” that might otherwise go unfunded. To an extent, that is indeed what philanthropists such as Andrew Mellon did during the Great Depression.
Which of these approaches should a philanthropist take? And what should citizens in a democracy like the United States do in the face of growing numbers of increasingly rich philanthropists, intent—out of good motives or bad—on using their wealth to rid the world of what they consider its problems? This is hardly a new question. Reflecting on the history of philanthropy in America, Robert Bremner once noted that the public wants wealthy people to be generous, but is skeptical of their motives when they are (American Philanthropy, 1960). While providing a variety of thoughtful perspectives on this dilemma, Philanthropy in Democratic Societies offers no clear resolution. Rather, it serves as a reminder that giving—by the wealthy and not-so-wealthy—has long been a “problem” for American life, but one that democracy has somehow managed to survive. Perhaps the real lesson is that compared to government, business, and other interest groups, wealthy donors and the institutions they support are not as powerful as those who study them may imagine.
Moreover, James Madison’s cautions about controlling the vices of “factions”—organized groups using their resources to gain unequal influence in politics—are worth recalling in this context. Suppressing them—or, today, limiting how the rich can employ philanthropy—would not be difficult; public policy need not encourage giving, or safeguard endowments, and for long periods of American history it did not. But doing so would, as Madison warned, impinge on the liberty of people to acquire and use their own property for desirable purposes. That may not unduly trouble egalitarians, like many of the contributors to this volume. But as Reich’s notion of philanthropy’s role in “discovery” suggests, restricting philanthropy would curtail a tool for political, social, and cultural innovation that has proven its worth.
