As the time for graduation draws near, the class of 2013 is asked to give a senior gift — and this is only the beginning of those relentless mailings and emails. As alums and possibly parents of Brown students, we will annually receive the same request. The assumption is that we want to sustain and improve this institution we have become a part of over the past four years, that though we may move to other cities and begin new lives, we will always be a part of the Brown community.
A recent article in the Atlantic by Ken Stern titled “Why the Rich Don’t Give to Charity” makes two observations. The first is that the wealthiest Americans give a lower percentage of their incomes to charity than the poorest Americans. The second is that when the rich do give, they tend to support educational institutions and arts organizations, whereas the poor generally give to religious and social-service organizations. Stern claims that our charity system is a fraud. He insists that our tax code, which allows the wealthy complete freedom in charitable donations, favors the elite.
On the surface, this is a mundane observation. We are likely to be generous and open-handed to those organizations most connected to our own life experiences. The wealthy, who probably benefited from institutions of higher education, are more inclined to feel the urge to reciprocate in that same vein. The poor, who are nearer to the hardships of life, are more likely to be compassionate to those reliant on charity for the basic necessities of life. Compassion requires shared experience.
In this senses Stern’s study is very much in line with what we would expect from human nature, that we give to our “own.” But his observation is also harrowing for us, because it implies educational institutions and arts organizations are inherently elitist. Perhaps this is obvious. Museums, opera houses and universities do not really lift people out of poverty and are largely inaccessible to the impoverished. By giving our charitable donations to Brown, alums fall into this pattern of elite exclusivism outlined by Stern. “Good” alums are the reason why our tax code doesn’t support well those institutions that provide basic services to the people who need them.
What does it mean to be philanthropic? Etymologically speaking, it means to be a lover of man. Is the “man” implied our fellow man, the one who is hungry or homeless or sick? Or is it the idea of man, the study of him and the admiration of all that he has accomplished along with the understanding of his shortcomings? Is it better to give a dollar to a withered man on Thayer Street every time he asks or to write a check to Brown at the end of the year?
Where we donate is a reflection of our worldviews and notions of community. As Brown students, we probably value an education centered around the intellectual pursuit. We want the professors we love to continue to teach and research. We would like to see the student groups we were part of continue to be active and have the facilities to do so. Brown is an institution that is important to us.
An opera house provides a very different service from a soup kitchen, but both rely on charitable donations for survival, and both are essential to the health of our society. Stern’s conclusion relies on the false premise that social service organizations do more important work than universities or arts organizations. We are certainly beneficiaries of generosity, but I don’t think any of us would consider ourselves a “charitable cause.” But it is fundamentally wrong to consider one function as lesser than another and dangerous to the future of higher learning and arts in this country.
Brown is certainly a place that fosters goodwill. In the class of 2012, 39 percent of graduates took jobs in the nonprofit or public sectors. Universities are essential organs of introspection for society — both promoting and preserving knowledge and fostering intellectual debate and conversation. I say this understanding that my perspective is limited: I understand better the trials of sleeping in a bad dorm room than the travails of sleeping on the street. I’ve spent more time in museums and libraries than I have in soup kitchens. I have never known the desperation of economic deprivation or had to rely on a social service for my livelihood.
Criticizing certain demographics for the focus of their charitable donations is unproductive. But we must be aware of these patterns and the role we play in them. Climbing this ivory tower ensures one thing for certain: entry into the intellectual elite. There are ways we can break down the dichotomy — by using our charitable donations to make sure arts and educational institutions are widely accessible. The class of 2013 could start a scholarship fund in our memory, to which we can donate every year as alums to pay the way of an applicant who otherwise couldn’t afford to study here. Before giving your money to Brown, the Red Cross or an individual, it is important to be aware of why you are giving and for whom you are providing.
Claire Gianotti ’13 doesn’t know yet how she will give back to Brown, but she would like to someday. She can be reached at claire_gianotti@brown.edu.
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