Today’s folly is a short one. On Wednesday and with us by his side, my dad peacefully transitioned. He lived how he wanted and, it would seem, died how he wanted.
Dad spent his 95th and final year traveling to New Orleans to be celebrated by his beloved Alpha Sigma Phi fraternity. He flew (unaccompanied, cross-country) for a long Thanksgiving stay with us in the San Francisco Bay Area, where he spent time with his grandchildren and extended family. He had a big birthday celebration at his favorite Cuban restaurant in Tampa. And he continued to live in his own home. He said that he got to do everything he wanted – a respected career as a corporate attorney and, for fun, a long and winning career in sports car racing. What a life!
He was also notoriously cheap.
But he was always a sucker for direct mail. Dad thought it was great that he received over a pound of mail every day. (I am not exaggerating.) And he responsibly put every damned piece of those appeals into the recycling, because he only made yearend gifts. (Of course he removed the coins, stamps or note pads, but he did not donate.)
We all know how it works. Thanks to something called “list sharing,” when you make one gift to a pet rescue (or political, or religious, or …) organization, you suddenly get dozens of solicitations from other pet rescue (political, religious, …) nonprofits that purchased your name from the original recipient. If I do the math, my Dad received 5-10 appeals a day, six days a week. That’s 1,500 to 3,000 solicitations a year. I counted 54 donations that he mailed in December 2022. Nearly all were for $50.
A few years ago I offered to help Dad check ratings to see if the organizations that wrote to him were legit. Most were. Some were not – their “program expense” appeared mostly to support the “education” they did through direct mail.
So there’s that: Is this a real nonprofit creating sustainable impact?
But the larger question is, why do any nonprofits remain so invested in direct mail? It is an insanely expensive and wasteful way to raise money. The steep acquisition cost means that the nonprofit doesn’t make money until that donor renews once or twice (which could be years later). A one-sided, transactional appeal, it is a tug-on-the-heartstrings-to-get-your-gift where the organization learns absolutely nothing about the donor’s larger philanthropic interests or capacity.
Changing the System
So what can each of us do? If you serve on a nonprofit board or in a leadership role, repurpose your direct mail budget to something focused on building donor relationships – online or AI tools to connect with your donors, or small events to meet and actually talk to donors and prospects.
When you give, request “no list sharing” or “no mail.” Online gifts don’t always require a full mailing address. And every nonprofit will honor a no-share request: it’s a box they can check in their donor database.
Other ideas? Please share them.
The way we communicate (and give) changes over time.
Years ago I was the interim development director at a 501c3/c4 organization. The advocacy arm used a phone canvas where a colorful, talented group of individuals came in at night to dial for dollars. Staff costs were growing and revenue was declining – few people now respond to unsolicited calls. After spending a year working with the team to try to increase revenue or decrease expense, we could do neither.
The nonprofit ended its 40-year-old cherished tradition of raising money by phone. It made sense then, but it just didn’t any more.
Poignant reflections on your beloved late Dad’s giving pattern-- and instructive! Thank you!