Unsubscribe, disconnect, and give your time instead.
Tomorrow is #GivingTuesday, an annual event focused on galvanizing generosity for others that was born nine years ago as a digital response to the hyper-commercialism of Black Friday and Cyber Monday. Since its founding, #GivingTuesday has become a global movement (supported by its own nonprofit hub). In the United States, it has generated a big spike in donations to groups and causes at this time of year, which is already when most nonprofits and charities raise most of their funds. Last year, nearly $2.5 billion was donated on #GivingTuesday.
You already know this, unless you live under a rock, because just about every nonprofit organization and charity in existence has flooded your inbox with claims on your attention, your heartstrings and your wallet tagged to #GivingTuesday. Just like Black Friday and Cyber Monday, #GivingTuesday has become an orgy of self-gratification, only it’s do-gooder organizations seeking gratification by praising themselves and shaming you into supporting them. They do this because it works: Last year, for organizations seeking to acquire new donors, #GivingTuesday was the single best day of the whole year
My friend Mario Lugay, the senior innovation director of Justice Funders, is a trenchant critic of these fundraising appeals, worrying that it’s us giving up on our power of building better relationships with people. He argues that in pursuit of money, too many social good organizations have adopted strategies that treat the public the same way commercial marketers do, as people with short attention spans who mainly respond to recognizable brands, pretty logos and shallow emotional appeals. Instead of appealing to our best selves and seeking to foster authenticity, agency, connection, and mutuality, the deluge of fundraising emails we get reinforce the values of the marketplace, he says. Instead of inviting people on a journey of self-discovery and collective action, where making a donation is embedded in a much larger sense of community and obligation, today’s fundraising emails treat giving as a form of consumption, he writes:
“Bored on a Friday night? Buy tickets to the latest summer blockbuster, in theaters now!”
“Feel bad about Trump separating families on Thursday? Make a quick donation to this organization you recognize from its logo.”
“Feeling a certain way? Here’s how to spend some money to address that feeling and move on.”
This is why many of the #GivingTuesday emails sitting in your inbox read like a conceited person bragging about themselves. “If you believe in our work, give us more money. Here, look at all the things we did last year, aren’t we great?”
So I have a simple suggestion. Take a few minutes and hit reply to every organization that sent you a #GivingTuesday plea, instead of just ignoring them. And write them back. Tell them that you aren’t interested in a transactional relationship with their cause. Then, unsubscribe.
Don’t worry, you won’t hurt anyone by unsubscribing. You can still donate to organizations that matter to you and your community. But by unsubscribing, you’ll send a signal to the fundraising teams at these organizations that just might get them to reconsider the unhealthy dynamic they’ve been fostering.
Even better, instead of donating money, go give time to an organization in your community that is already set up to welcome you as a volunteer. One of the best things about the #GivingTuesday project is how it has spurred an increase in local engagement around this time of year.
Other than voting, giving money to causes and charities is one of the most popular civic actions we take. But it’s urgent that we shift more of that civic energy towards real community-building, not shallow marketing. Because being generous is one of the most valuable ways we actualize our humanity.