One of the biggest long-term threats facing American democracy is also one of the least recognized. It is the fact that those minding the store—the nonprofit government watchdogs, political and tech reformers, and good government advocates who together form the democracy reform “movement”—are, at present, woefully underfunded to meet the scale and urgency of the problem they’re working to solve. Even as foundations invest heavily in efforts that claim to protect democracy, they overlook the structural reform work that actually could ensure a democracy that is representative of and responsive to the American people. There is a disconnect between what the philanthropic sector believes itself to be doing and the impact it is actually having.
That has to change, and soon. Without major focused investment in the future of our democracy that is on par with the philanthropic support of other sectors, such as health care and climate action, we will witness the continued acceleration of its decline and its eventual demise.
Beyond a “Movement” Mentality
Over the last 40 years of American democracy, we have learned that our system is far more fragile than some imagined. Without question, it requires guardrails and guardians attending to its welfare. Having a sector committed to its preservation should be thought of as a permanent and necessary feature of a representative democracy, not a bug. America deserves a well-financed sector dedicated to this work. It’s time that we—democracy advocates, reformers, and funders—stop thinking of ourselves so much as a scrappy reform movement and more as a mature professional sector that will need to function at the highest and broadest levels of power for as long as American democracy exists. And that means seriously reimagining the relationship dynamics between philanthropic investors and the organizations that lead work in this space.
Given the amount of special-interest money pumped into Washington to maintain the status quo, we as the reform sector are worse off than even David was in his fight against Goliath. We have makeshift slingshots; they have nuclear weapons. At the federal level, a few dozen nonprofits are up against the collective war chest of corporate America, multinational business interests, and wealthy individual megadonors. Too many of these interests hijack partisan structures to undermine the potential for evidence-based and popular bipartisan problem-solving.
What Actually Saves Democracy?
Reading the annual reports of the top foundations in recent years, one would get the impression that their main purpose is to “Save Democracy!” According to the University of Pennsylvania’s Center for High Impact Philanthropy, more than $5.7 billion has been allocated to “strengthening U.S. democracy” since 2011. But a fraction of that funding went to the democracy reform sector, the 501(c)(3) and 501(c)(4) organizations whose missions are to safeguard democracy.
A closer look at the University of Pennsylvania data reveals that the bulk of the funding goes to the kind of “small d” democracy efforts that The New York Times recently referred to as the “kumbaya industrial complex.” These initiatives range from bridging religious divides to strengthening social cohesion to restoring so-called “third places” in American civil society, such as parks and libraries. In the wake of the 2016 election, nonprofits from the Girl Scouts of America to the AARP, and seemingly every institution of higher education and civic engagement in between, claimed to have an important answer to what ails our democracy.
But when nearly any and every civic endeavor is framed as an effort to strengthen American democracy, not enough attention gets paid to the work that actually could. At best, categorizing civic initiatives under the democracy banner can offer a false sense of security. At worst—and this is where we find ourselves today—it presents a critical problem when making the case for more philanthropic investment that actually hits the target. With so much media attention and foundation funding going to “small d” democracy and civil society efforts, donors are frequently shocked to hear how little funding really flows to structural democracy reform work like election protection, congressional modernization, and curbing the influence of money in politics. This is not to say that efforts to restore and renew American civil society are never important; they are. But many are not, in fact, essential to securing “capital D” Democracy for generations to come.
The Wheat and the Chaff
As a maturing industry, the democracy reform sector needs to clearly separate the wheat from the chaff. The wheat consists of the efforts that are squarely focused on democracy reform in three mutually reinforcing and interdependent categories: government reform, political/electoral reform, and media/tech reform. When we think about representative democracy, we imagine it as a three-legged stool: the political and electoral processes at work, the functioning and responsiveness of the government itself, and the information ecosystem in which it all exists. Two out of the three of these can be healthy and we would still have a dysfunctional system, so the well-being of all three must be the focus of the democracy reform sector writ large. At the intersection of these three issues sits the corrosive influence of money within our democracy. Dramatically reducing the outsize power of money within these systems so that the voices of everyday Americans aren’t drowned out by moneyed interests and can be heard in proportion to their merit is a key task where philanthropic investment currently falls far short.
The chaff consists of what we would argue are design choices within a democracy rather than structural and foundational issues. At present, the chaff gets a lot of media attention and a great deal more funding than the structural work. It is often far easier to implement and can be done on a short timetable. Supporting civil society or creating opportunities for the free exchange of ideas are laudable goals with a level of impact. But these efforts don’t rise to the level of addressing the structural challenges within our electoral system brought on by mass disinformation or the unlimited money spent on behalf of corporate interests to buy our politicians. Funding chaff instead of wheat ensures that too many critical structural reform efforts—like long-range strategic initiatives to reduce the grotesque influence of money in politics—remain gasping for air.
A single-year snapshot of the top ten national democracy-focused organizations—both “small d” and “capital D”—reveals combined annual revenues of around $200 million for 2022. To put that into perspective, that number is on par with what a single organization in the environmental sector, the Sierra Club, spends in a single year. This drastic underinvestment in democracy reform holds true when comparing the sector to several other areas of philanthropy as well, including health care and higher education. This is all the more shocking when we consider that the projects garnering these billions of dollars of philanthropic funding ultimately rely on a functioning democracy to make the most significant progress. Yet, the projects that would strengthen that democracy remain underfunded. Big Philanthropy congratulates itself on its commitment to American democracy while neglecting the crucial players who will actually move the needle on restoring public trust in our government and our political and electoral systems.
Philanthropy for Democracy: Approaching Scale
As we see it, the challenge the democracy reform sector now faces is threefold. First, we have to get the attention of the American philanthropic sector writ large. The approaching two-hundred-and-fiftieth anniversary of American democracy could be helpful in driving home this important point: Progress on the problems philanthropists care most about and invest billions to fix will stagnate until the incentive structures of Washington are changed and the government is responsive to the demands of the American people. That reality will be a tough pill to swallow for those who wish to remain myopically focused on their pet issues. But if we don’t repair and reinforce the structures of our democracy, progress on any key policy will be elusive.
For example, we cannot afford for the climate sector to wait around and find out at the last minute that democratic dysfunction in the United States may be the fatal constraint that prohibits global progress in reversing climate change. It is not hyperbolic to suggest that the state of American democracy could very well determine whether the human race continues. Despite frantic warnings to the contrary, the electoral outcomes of any one election cycle do not spell certain doom for democracy, but ignoring the bigger picture of democratic dysfunction much longer absolutely does.
Second, Big Philanthropy must pivot its well-intentioned spending in these other areas toward a sustained investment in building a better and more accountable democracy. With adequate funding, real bipartisan change can, does, and will continue to happen. The philanthropic elite must come to understand that there is no more significant inheritance we can leave to our children than a republic that is responsive to the needs and demands of its citizenry. Absent government responsiveness and accountability, we call the last 250 years of the American experiment in self-governance a failure.
Philanthropy in America has long been seen as a way for noblesse oblige to supplement what a healthy and well-functioning U.S. government already provides. Think Andrew Carnegie and his legacy of libraries. But what happens when government dysfunction itself is the root cause of the lack of progress on the issues the philanthropic sector is most dedicated to? At this pivotal moment, Big Philanthropy must realign its priorities to ensure an enduring democracy.
It is time to realize that protecting our democracy is not the work of a single organization or even a single generation. For as long as we remain committed to this audacious American experiment, there will need to be a sector dedicated to its guardianship. This means start-up nonprofit reform organizations being turned into lasting institutions. This means long-term funding for the critical work these organizations do. This means foundations whose endowments are explicitly for the purpose of safeguarding democracy from whatever threatens it. And frankly, no single philanthropic organization will solve this problem. It will require sustained investment by the entire philanthropic sector over decades to reverse the current trend line and restore public trust in government and our political processes. We realize this is a huge thing to ask, but preserving American democracy is worth it.
Finally, if we are to attempt a democratic renewal in today’s polarized climate, the reform sector must pay attention to the areas of consensus among the American people. Reimagining philanthropic support for democracy reform means institutional investors supporting efforts that reflect what the voters want, not what Washington politicians want.
Take the issue of money in politics, for example. According to Pew Research Center, 72 percent of Americans agree that there ought to be limits on how much individuals or groups can spend on political campaigns, and 85 percent agree—with equal shares of Republicans and Democrats—that the high cost of campaigns makes it too hard for good people to run for public office. Eight in ten American adults say that those who donate to political campaigns have too much influence over members of Congress. Seventy-three percent say the same thing about lobbyists and special interests. We as a sector should be seizing these bright spots of public consensus and using them as our blueprint for how to renew our democracy and restore the public’s trust in it.
Philanthropic foundations are, of course, not accountable to the American people; they’re accountable to their own boards. Yet, given the need for greater investment in efforts that strengthen democracy, more leaders in philanthropy should recognize this responsibility and commit to initiatives that bolster democratic institutions for the long term. In doing so, they can ensure that their contributions have a lasting, meaningful impact on the fabric of American society.
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