Philanthropy talks a lot about decolonising wealth, yet there are so few examples where deep inner transformation, and the dismantling of colonial architecture has taken place or been sustained. Often, funders shift some practices and make some ‘good’ grants, but invariably it’s part of a dual strategy which appeases power and sits within enduring hierarchical structures. For foundation staff, the straddling of ‘two worlds’ can feel deeply conflicting.

The political dance which sees grant making become bargaining and balance between old ‘charity’ ways and new progressive approaches – rather than genuine shifts in values, belief systems and world views- is both exhausting and demoralising. You might notice that more and more foundations are opting to spend down, a move widely applauded as progressive although I am learning quickly that for grantees operating in an ever more challenging funding environment, this can feel like their most trusted funders are abandoning them.

Before we start to celebrate spending down, we should look at the motivations behind it. In my experience, the decision isn’t always prompted by a belief that wealth shouldn’t be accumulated and hoarded; or that any benefits of funding would be undone by millions of dollars invested in a capitalist system perpetuating inequality. Rather, the driving force is often a board who wants to see the ‘impact’ of funding in their lifetime.

This spending down doesn’t fundamentally drive more progressive or more ethical grant making, as we are told it should. The accompaniment of external advice and support, especially those with experience of social justice work and who are brave enough to challenge the prevalent philanthropic paradigms is so important. It enables grant makers to connect with community organisers, activists, civil society organisations, policy makers, government officials and researchers to curate powerful stories about the realities of inequality and what really drives social justice in specific contexts.

Access to such wisdom and knowledge and receiving it in an environment where the power imbalance is named and partly dismantled (although as we know, any funder in a room creates a power imbalance), so people feel free (at least in part) to voice their realities, can enable the development a funding strategy shaped by communities.

This process also challenges grant makers to unlearn harmful funding practices. While this points to progress, many foundations (even those where there is a desire to do things differently) remain a microcosm of the world at large, where the rules are different for the elites and power is hoarded.

When it’s broken down, foundations are often groups of privileged people gathered around a wealthy founder or family, with very different world views, ideologies, and mindsets to the communities they fund. This means delivering a strategic shift let alone a mindset shift is in no way a linear process. New grants don’t breeze through the boardroom; in fact, they are subject to much higher levels of scrutiny than those that came before, even though they are often for much smaller amounts of funding.

With boards who tend to see themselves as the experts, the shift to recognising the limitations of their knowledge, and the privilege of their position is not an easy or comfortable one, especially when it involves deep self-reflection. Of course, deep and authentic self-reflection takes time and spend down foundations face time constraints on their ability to do the inner work required to truly transform their architecture, learn about power, and who should be making funding decisions.

‘In my experience, there’s no more sobering an experience than sitting with those who’ve campaigned against the activities which have generated huge wealth and who continue to experience trauma and generational harm and know that you are still having to hold the purse strings tightly’

Ultimately though, it’s a lack of regulation and accountability in philanthropy which means that boards don’t see themselves, or their Foundations, as part of an accountable and interconnected ecosystem. Instead, many trustees feel privileged to be part of founder’s passion project and in some ways, more responsive to the demands of each other than the evidence presented to them.

The peer pressure and reputational risk which drives progressive action in some foundations doesn’t impact all. For many private foundations, there is little talk of board succession and few opportunities to bring diverse world views or specific expertise into the governance structure. Often, even regionally located staff came from a position of privilege and abundance. Across all foundations, it’s becoming increasingly important to interrogate where the wealth has come from. Foundation staff often have to advocate to access the detail needed to have honest, humble and respectful conversations to explore whether funding could be reparative.

In my experience, there’s no more sobering an experience than sitting with those who’ve campaigned against the activities which have generated huge wealth and who continue to experience trauma and generational harm and know that you are still having to hold the purse strings tightly. A reticence to embrace full transparency creates a lingering opaqueness with partners. It also means navigating the elephant in the room, desperately trying to mitigate the risk of proposals being rejected – knowing this only compounds and reinforces harm and mistrust.

Looking back, I often reflect that philanthropy felt like I was being pulled in and out of my window of tolerance, trying to determine when the discomfort was just too uncomfortable. Andrea Arenas’ reflections in Philanthropy’s Golden Handcuffs always resonated deeply with me. I felt these conflicts so painfully and was often ashamed, compromising my values because of the powerful allure of the high salaries, the resources and convening power, and the access to knowledge and learning.

Now I’m on the ‘outside’, writing this piece and naming these realities feels even more important. Those working in social justice organisations around the world are operating under extreme political and economic pressures. The personal toll this takes is incomprehensible to those not doing the work, especially those lounging in the comfort of their philanthropic foundations. No longer can the ‘old way’ of philanthropy delude and disguise itself. The need for philanthropy to acknowledge and address its uncomfortable truths and hurry its transformation is long overdue.

The anonymous author is a former private foundation executive.