On Donating

I’m going to rant a little here. I donate to many charitable organizations, and there are many more that I wish I could support but don’t have the resources to do so. Since the demand is higher than the supply, I apply a strict rule. If a charity engages in undesirable or unethical behavior, I strike it from my list. Here are some examples.

I used to give annually to the Southern Poverty Law Center, which I believe does good work. But in 2019, after years of complaints and allegations, the SPLC fired its co-founder, Morris Dees for unprofessional behavior in the workplace. I stopped donating at that time. The SPLC’s financial report for 2023 reported an endowment of $660 million; they don’t need my money.

When I was in college, I was a member of the Sierra Club. During my professional career in the biotech industry, I decided that the Sierra Club was sometimes lying about what some biotech companies were doing. I also felt that some of the positions the Sierra Club was taking were irrationally anti-science. I stopped donating. After I retired, in a weak moment I relented and rejoined. But then I learned about dysfunction in the group and decided not to renew my membership.

Last year I made a donation to a local charity through its website. Charities want us all to sign up for monthly donations instead of making less reliable one-time donations. When I made my donation, I discovered to my dismay that dark patterns on the website had resulted in my signing up for monthly donations at the amount that I was intending to give as a one-time donation. I figured out how to stop the monthly donations, but I will no longer donate to that charity.

I had the same problem with the Environmental Defense Fund a year ago. Dark patterns on the website tried to trick me into making monthly donations instead of a one-time donation. I caught it in time, but I made a note about it, and I’m not donating this year.

I don’t remember the organization I was trying to make a donation to about two years ago, but the webpage made me go through a reCAPTCHA. After a minute of clicking on photos with crosswalks or motorcycles and being rejected, I gave up, and the group did not receive my donation. I actually wrote a letter to the organization complaining, and their response was they felt it was necessary to include this mechanism to avoid problems on their end. I think I mailed them a check.

Politicians are not charities, but my rule applies for political donations, too. One of my national senators is Elizabeth Warren, who I think does a terrific job. She supports everything I support, and she is probably the smartest person in the U.S. Senate. Her staff is amazingly competent. But I stopped donating to her re-election campaigns because of a fluke experience. I went to the FedEx store near Beacon Hill in Boston to ship a package, and an aide from Warren’s campaign was there, shipping some documents to a recipient in Western Massachusetts. The bill was over $300! I saw my donations for the past three years disappear — poof! — in a few minutes because someone from her office was too inefficient to prepare the documents in a timely manner and mail them for only a few dollars.

Finally, when an organization requests my phone number, I roll my eyes but comply. If my cellphone rings and the number isn’t in my address book, I send the call to voicemail. It’s no big deal. But if an organization actually tries to call me, I consider taking them off my donation list. Send me an email, please, but don’t call me!