Next time you’re in a public library, art museum or university, thank a billionaire! The generous spirit of Andrew Carnegie, John D. Rockefeller, Cornelius Vanderbilt and the like continue to be an inspiration to the altruistic ultra-wealthy. While their workers died by the thousands on railway tracks, in factories and on the picket line, these titans of industry were busy dodging the Civil War draft, paying off Congress and yes, building hospitals, libraries and schools.
Today, the philanthropic influence of the ultra-wealthy often hides in plain sight through nonprofit organizations and foundations. Donations to nonprofit organizations with 501c3 status, such as churches, educational, scientific or charitable organizations, are tax deductible, opening the doors to wealthy philanthropists who can save a significant portion of their income through their tax-exempt donations.
I spoke with Grant Gallaher, a 2020 Whitman graduate, about the influence of philanthropy on Jackson Hole, Wyoming, which, by some measures, has more nonprofits per capita than anywhere else in the country.
Gallaher explained that the access to natural beauty and the lack of state income tax makes Teton County an enticing location for billionaires to acquire second (or third, or fourth) homes. This aggregation of wealth has made the region a hotspot for philanthropic endeavors. Citing the book “Billionaire Wilderness,” by Justin Farrell, as well as his personal experience, Gallaher argued that this abundance of charity is not purely altruistic; it conveniently aligns with the interests of the ultra-wealthy.
“They get pretty insane tax breaks on some of this giving…and there’s also this whole social capital that surrounds it,” Gallaher said. “As people are attending fundraisers and exclusive luncheons for donors, …they’re meeting other ultra-wealthy individuals that then open new doors for them in terms of business and whatnot.”
To be clear, the term nonprofit organization, often colloquially shortened to “nonprofit,” doesn’t necessarily denote anything specific about an organization’s aims. Broadly speaking, however, all nonprofits are supposed to operate for public benefit, and income must be redistributed toward the aims of the organization rather than to shareholders as profit.
While the types of issues and needs addressed by nonprofit organizations are wide-ranging, many ultra-rich donors are not interested in changing the status quo that has allowed them to accumulate exorbitant amounts of wealth and power. Rather than confront systemic social problems, or what Farrell calls “buzzkill issues,” Gallaher explained that most big donors prefer to contribute to organizations focused on less controversial issues.
“The data shows…that money goes towards relatively non-controversial, non-political nonprofits,” Gallaher said. “It’s going towards classical music; it’s going towards saving the moose, things that aren’t really pushing the needle or making big systemic change happen.”
This isn’t to say there’s anything wrong with classical music, and I sincerely hope the moose get saved. Nonprofit organizations often fill vital needs, but their funding sources limit what they can accomplish on a structural level.
Further, Donald Trump and Elon Musk’s recent federal cuts highlight the precarity of many nonprofit organizations. Just last week, the Blue Mountain Action Council announced that it is terminating its mobile food-distribution program due to lost grant funding.
When institutions fail us, we want to make our voices heard. Two weeks ago, over 400 Walla Wallans of all stripes turned out to protest the Trump administration. Nationwide, the Hands Off! protest of April 5 got hundreds of thousands of Americans into the streets, but it’s unclear how that surge of energy will be effectively harnessed into meaningful change. The parallels between Hands Off! and the Women’s March – a lack of clearly articulated demands, next steps and a shared vision – are enough to justify a healthy dose of skepticism.
I can’t speak for a generation, but I don’t think I’m alone in letting skepticism turn to cynicism after watching the social movements that characterized my adolescence – March for Our Lives, the Climate Strike, Black Lives Matter – be co-opted, tranquilized and deconstructed.
The rise of Palestinian liberation movements on college campuses around the country have proven that Gen Z’s protest instinct hasn’t been completely broken, but the vocal activists represent a small proportion of student populations. Further, the Trump administration has shown it is more than willing to sacrifice America’s top universities – not to mention the first amendment – to teach everyone a lesson about what happens when you criticize Israel.
For those of us who are cynical but not yet apathetic, the question remains: How do we live ethically in the world when it feels as if all traditional modes of change-making have failed?
For community organizers Isaiah Banta and Cameron Conner, both class of 2020, the answer requires a level of civic engagement that goes beyond electoral politics and one-off days of action.
“We talk about being citizens, not in the legal sense of the word, but in the sense of being involved in a community that you feel a responsibility for,” Conner said.
Banta spoke directly to the disengagement of many young people from politics.
“I’m seeing with a lot of young people…that there’s growing apathy about getting involved in institutions and our democratic process and being engaged citizens. And I think organizing is a direct response to that,” Banta said.
While nonprofits tend to be more focused on meeting specific needs, community organizing aims to build coalitions to strategically get to the root of the issues facing a community.
The primary difference between the two models is in funding. The umbrella organization Banta and Conner have both worked with, Industrial Areas Foundation, is funded through dues from community-level organizations such as churches, unions and local nonprofits, allowing them to remain accountable to the communities they work within.
Conner explained why this distinction is so important.
“The more removed you get from the people who are actually affected, the less radical you’re going to be, the less risk you’re going to be willing to take because it’s not as dire for you anymore,” Conner said.
Because organizers are beholden to people who actually want to see change happen, they’re able to more directly challenge powerful actors.
“I think that organizing when done right, talks about power very directly,” Banta said. “And when you talk about power very directly… it ends up necessarily being really disruptive. Whereas being disruptive in the nonprofit sector, that comes with a lot of risks. And so a lot of them don’t do that because they have to think about their funders.”
Conner gave the women’s suffrage movement as an example of the power that can be built through organizing.
“When Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton called the Seneca Falls Convention in 1848…the original 200 women who came represented existing groups of female reformed society members, abolitionist groups, temperance society members – all people who knew what it took to organize, to create constitutions, to work with budgets, to do turn out for actions, who were part of organizations that lasted over time,” Conner said. “It wasn’t just a bunch of people who all agreed with each other going on marches every Tuesday.”
While effective collective action is not inevitable, Conner and Banta’s work rests on the historically-proven fact that it is possible.
Trump’s 2024 victory was the manifestation of a right-wing cultural shift that has been building for years, but his approval rating is falling amidst haphazard tariffs and federal layoffs. The Democratic party’s complete failure to respond to the present moment offers an opportunity for the American left to show people there is a third option beyond autocracy and cowardice. My intention is not to foster false optimism about the future, but rather to reject the notion that we’ve already lost.
“People are winning all the time. It can be hard to see, but if you look at other countries, they have done things like this before. It’s going to be hard, [but] there’s no such thing as a good sailor on calm seats, right?,” said Conner. “It’s not the apocalypse.”