USCJ Review - Fall 2004
Jewish or Non-Jewish Philanthropy: How About Both?
The Jewish community wastes too much time and energy on dichotomous debates. Should we expend resources on our local community or support programs in Israel? Should we focus on the unaffiliated or those already within our sanctuaries? Is Judaism a religion or an ethnic group? The answer is obvious in each and every case - both, both and both.
The deliberation about where Jews should target their philanthropy is likewise misguided and wasteful. It is not an either/or decision. Jewish law and tradition obligate us to give to the Jewish community. Our integration into North American society and our role as humanitarians require us to support local, national and international causes outside the Jewish community. It is common sense that we must do both. The focus on Jewish versus non-Jewish masks the more important issues of how donors determine their giving and how Jewish institutions present themselves.
Some background is useful. At the highest end of giving, donations of $10 million or more, Jews are disproportionately represented, making 23% of all such gifts. Only 6% of Jewish mega-gifts go to Jewish institutions. The lion’s share goes to colleges and universities, health-related charities, and arts and cultures (Tobin, Gary A., Jeffrey R. Solomon and Alexander C. Karp. Mega-Gifts in American Philanthropy: General & Jewish Giving Patterns Between 1995-2000, San Francisco: Institute for Jewish & Community Research, 2003). Approximately $8-10 billion annually is directed into Jewish institutions, including several billion dollars to synagogues. (We may call synagogue member donations “dues,” but they are tax-deductible charitable gifts.) Federations and a host of other Jewish organizations receive billions of dollars as well.
When focusing on high-end philanthropy, it becomes apparent that Jewish institutions are not competing very well. It is logical to wonder how we might shift mega-gift spending and philanthropy to Jewish institutions and look for a rationale in Jewish law to do so. It is equally logical for those who are making gifts outside the Jewish community to cite both Jewish law and American values as the reason for their generosity to the world at large. This emphasis on how to divide the current philanthropy pie should be abandoned and, instead, we should be concentrating on ways to expand the pie, for both the Jewish and the general community.
Studies show that most Jews give very small proportions of their income, and even smaller proportions of their assets, to philanthropy, often about 0.6%. (We are not as good philanthropists as we think we are.) There is an explosive growth of foundations established by Jews, and many fortunes large and small frequently pass on to someone else to give away. The majority of Jews do not manage to distribute their wealth while they are alive. More often, disposable income is accumulated rather than donated. This is not stated as an admonishment against savings, economic security or well-being. Certainly, these things are to be lauded. However, when it comes to amounts of money that cannot be spent in an individual’s own lifetime, it is clear that many Jews are not choosing to put their capital to work in philanthropy as much as they could. The conclusion is inescapable: It should be our first priority to encourage Jews to allocate more of their wealth to philanthropic causes, Jewish and non-Jewish alike.
Moreover, attacking those who are generous to the general society is a self-defeating strategy. We should promote giving as a positive act of righteousness on the one hand, a Jewish value, and as something that is joyful, fulfilling and satisfying on the other hand, an American value. Guilt and coercion no longer play well as motivators to give. Teaching Jews about philanthropy is therefore essential. Providing a moral and ethical framework is critical. Every interaction about money in a Jewish context should be a lesson in Jewish views of tzedakah. Instead, we too often focus on the emergency of the roof repair or the school’s budget shortfall but are detached from meaningful experiences of Jewish values or ideology. Most Jewish organizations center too much attention on how much people should give, rather than on why they should give.
It is vital that we treat each philanthropist with respect, even if we do not personally or communally approve of his or her philanthropic choices. Denigration of these choices is counterproductive. Contributions to museums, medical research, or feeding the hungry in Africa are all valid. However, we should demand the same kind of scrutiny of non-Jewish institutions that donors apply to Jewish institutions. For example, are the managers of cancer research efforts spending money wisely? Are they duplicative? Cooperative? Do Harvard and Yale operate as efficiently as they project? When are their endowments out of proportion to their real needs? Discussions in the Jewish community about giving to medical research or higher education should be in the context of broader ethical considerations, using the language of American philanthropy as well. It may be that a gift to the synagogue is more useful or necessary than a gift to the symphony, but the discussions must be grounded, not mired in “Jewish gifts are better or more right.”
Donors moderate their philanthropy over the course of their lives. Someone may give to predominantly Jewish causes in their thirties and non-Jewish causes in their seventies or vice-versa. People change. We should take every opportunity to interact with Jews about philanthropy, even those we think are a “lost cause.” When we write people off because they do not seem interested in Jewish organizations, we are unnecessarily closing doors. Our obligation is to educate. We never know when something we impart will strike a chord.
Financial support between Jewish and non-Jewish society flows in both directions. Non-Jews back Jewish causes all the time, belying the notion “if we don’t do it, no one else will.” The Jewish National Fund, the Anti-Defamation League and a myriad of Israeli institutions all receive financial assistance from non-Jewish sources. The United States government, whose funds come from a population that is 98% non-Jewish, sends money to Israel in amounts that dwarf the contributions coming from the entire Federation system. State and federal tax dollars go to sustain homes for seniors, family services, and a variety of other programs within the Jewish community. Synagogues are another matter, of course, drawing nearly all their revenue from Jewish contributors. However, let us not forget that synagogues do not pay local property taxes, and gifts to them are federally subsidized as tax deductions. The argument that we are alone when it comes to looking out for ourselves is truly erroneous.
It is possible that giving can be categorized as both Jewish and non-Jewish simultaneously. For example, the American Jewish World Service provides food, medical treatment, and essential care to those in need throughout the world, while, at the same time, allowing Jews the opportunity to perform mitzvot and uphold Jewish values.
Each time we talk about money, ask for money, or construct a budget, we have the chance to teach something positive (or negative) about Jewish philanthropy. Each High Holiday appeal, each invoice we send out about membership dues, each request to support the Men’s Club or the Sisterhood, engages in tzedakah. What is the quality of these ongoing educative processes? Are they encouraging and instructive? The behavior of both professional and lay leaders alike on each of these occasions adds up tothe sum total of Jewish philanthropy.
Donors want their contribution to accomplish something. They want to know what their money is going to do. They want a concrete agenda. Being able to articulate to them exactly how their donation will be applied to improve the quality of Jewish existence is key to getting significant grants. Presenting achievable ideas reinforces credibility. A proposal strategy based on these principles will be substantially more effective than one based on guilt tactics and/or threats of dire consequences.
There has been a lot of hand-wringing about Jews who give to predominantly non-Jewish causes. This attitude harms the Jewish community and is incongruous with the tradition of tzedakah. We should celebrate giving directed toward the general public welfare just as much as we celebrate giving to primarily Jewish groups. At the same time, we must make Jewish philanthropy more attractive and something in which more people want to become involved. A strong and vibrant Jewish community requires philanthropic investment. We need to dedicate ourselves to more righteous giving in every realm. The Jewish/non-Jewish question will resolve itself by our increased generosity.
The author is President of the Institute for Jewish & Community Research.
