"Who Really Cares" review, part 1 of 2

A couple months ago I ordered a copy of Arthur C. Brooks' new book "Who Really Cares", which made a bit of a media splash. I said I'd read it and post a review. Finally finished it, took some time to ponder, and here we go.

This will require two posts, and today will be the actual book review: it's not a great piece of work. Nonetheless I'll suggest that everyone working in this sector should read it.

I should also confess up front to some empathy for Brooks’ worldview: like me he is a born-and-raised progressive now bewildered by the intellectual/philosophical decomposition of U.S. liberalism. But that issue is not particularly germane to the specific questions raised by his book, and certainly doesn’t grant Brooks any special exemptions from basic standards of logic and critical thinking. “Who Really Cares” falls well short of those standards in several ways.

The biggest logic problem I have is that Brooks treats survey data and behavioral data as equally significant. He keeps citing surveys (“57 percent of Americans said they volunteered”) as if they had the same significance as actual documented activity (e.g. how different states compare on the amount of charitable giving reported on tax returns). That’s just silly -- people aren’t always completely honest on surveys, and survey responses can be heavily influenced by how the question is phrased. The strongest use of survey data for analysis is when a variety of surveys all point the same way and Brooks at times seems to get that, but at a lot of points he just quotes a single survey as if it could prove some point or other all by itself.

Also Brooks frequently confuses correlation with causation, hardly an uncommon problem of course but he does it persistently. Another problem is that while Brooks says that he set out to just analyze and report the true facts about philanthropy in America not to “promote some broad-based political agenda”, that is obviously untrue. He goes off on extended tangential riffs about things like the welfare system and tax policy and other issues. On some issues I tend to agree with him on other things not, but that’s really not the point. Moreover his arguments on those subjects are no more compelling than are the cliches about charity which his book is ostensibly aimed at (that is, nobody who doesn’t already see economic politics his way is going to be persuaded by anything he’s written).

All of that tends to undermine his credibility about the immediate subject, charitable giving. So overall I’d have to say that this book, as a book, is kind of a mess. It doesn’t really deserve to be called a “study” of charitable giving in the U.S. -- “study” sounds like something empirical and coldly analytical, the scientific method at work. Brooks’ book is at least as much a philosophical essay or rumination; I didn’t personally find it to be a terribly coherent or persuasive one but of course your mileage may vary.

With all that said…mixed in there is a lot of interesting actual data about individual philanthropy in the U.S., and Brooks earns kudos for providing a full appendix listing and describing all his data sources. So over the weekend I’ll summarize what folks in the non-profit sector might want to think about, which can be extracted from the interesting and well-sourced facts buried within this flabby book.

The "Slate 60" sounds off

Ten years ago, Slate editor Michael Kinsley was inspired (by something Ted Turner said in an interview) to create the "Slate 60": the philanthropy version of the Forbes 400 annual list of America's richest people. Arguably Kinsley was a bit ahead of his time in 1996, which was before Bill Gates and Warren Buffett and Gordon Moore started famously taking turns doing modern-day Andrew Carnegie impersonations. (For that matter so was Turner, who has a right to feel like he was doing billionaire philanthropy before it was cool.)

Anyway it was a good idea and the ten years worth of lists make for interesting reading; one can see things like the sources of vast new personal fortunes, what subjects and institutions have the attention of the super-rich, and of course the unprecedented new scale of individual philanthropy. (Despite personal wealth in the U.S. being vastly less concentrated today than in Carnegie's time Bill Gates has already given away in real dollars several times as much as either Carnegie or John D. Rockefeller did; and yet all the giving for a year by the entire Slate 60 is a small fraction of total American individual giving which is closing in on $300 billion per year.)

This past November, Slate gathered members of the Slate 60 from its first ten years for a public conversation. I like the NonProfit Times writeup which is both thorough and just a bit cheeky ("With their limos waiting outside, donors gathered at the conference to discuss..." Those would be hybrid limos staffed by salaried drivers receiving family health insurance, I trust?). For example their reporter quoted Bill Gates Sr. scoffing at the dot-commers' notion that philanthropy only just this second became entrepeneurial (he has a point in a generalized sense of that word, not so much if the narrow fiduciary sense of it is meant).

The Chronicle of Philanthropy writeup is drier, though probably does a better job of getting across the key messages of a couple of people like New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg. Slate meanwhile posted video and audio from the conference itself. (The conference also included prominent philanthropists who haven't personally made the Slate 60, such as Bono.)

Sharing the wealth

A group called "NewTithing" believes that the charitable impulses of wealthy folks are being obstructed by misunderstanding their own capacity: that basing philanthropic decisions on assets rather than annual income would lead to increased giving while they're alive (as opposed to making big bequests in their wills). Sounds like simply a new way of saying "rich people should give more", but along the way NewTithing is doing some interesting research from IRS data.

For instance this year they sorted philanthropy by the wealthiest households by U.S. states. It turns out that people in the states with the most wealth are giving less of it to charity than folks in smaller, poorer states. "If affluent income tax filers in the five wealthiest states (California, New York, Florida, Texas, and Illinois) gave as generously as do their well-off peers in the “The Charitable Five,” individual giving in the U.S. would increase $13 billion a year." Those five most-generous states by percentage of personal assets are Utah, Oklahoma, Nebraska, Minnesota and Georgia. That's not exactly what those of us in the big blue states tend to assume about places like Utah and Oklahoma is it?