The neuro-authority of "Did you know?"
"I'm sorry. Ignore him. Albert's so loud."
Albert's a chimp. A member of this university family. ALBERT. Entitled to healthcare and burial/Because we are animals with a robust array of sensory inputs, we pay far more attention to things we DON'T know, DIDN'T know or had NO idea. Albert recalled a portion of that speech
Humdrum. Normal. We do those things by rote. We ignore them. Maybe a small handful become expert. All of us do this: thanks to species-specific programming.
; the follow through on why they gave in the first place]
WHO am I helping?
Where are the headlines that talk to me of raw ugly impoverished unimaginable shocking surprising there-but-for-the-grace-of-God NEED on the savage streets? Broken souls. Broken hearts. People beyond hope or forgiveness or pride or purpose.
All these desperate characters have left now is one tiny bit of will ... enough to try to change, with your help. Without your help, they have no real chance. With your help, well, shall we see?
In my simplistic No need there. No urgent need there.
These headlines tell me I'm doing good, over and over and over. But having "done good" requires from me no additional charity. And just telling me I've done good over and over is suspect, it's plastic, slick ... unless a real person anchors the story.
[Specific advice for a refugee charity:] The brutal displacement of families, disrupting tens of thousands of futures. Winter survival for unprepared families with nothing. A fresh start for communities destroyed during a natural disaster. Schooling, healthcare, normalcy and some real hope in refugee camps, in circumstances beyond imagining for most American families.
- "Why re-invent obvious wheels?" his Sainted Ascendency asked.
Circa 800.
His Sainted Ascendancy was pleasant enough despite his great title
wonder how long that took
Rubbed him the wrong way.
He'd been given his way. Over here, you can be less scrupulous, they said on the quays.
It smelled of the sea. And the sea smelled of Christianity: souls saved always smelled so good. They smelled of fresh salted cod.
The quarrels between the Roman-spawned church-led and the Irish were volatile at any time. He was one of their roaming explosives. They paid him well enough. He got to roam without discomfort. It was a good job. He got paid enough. There was no pressure. They just stayed in touch. He didn't expect to blow himself up anytime soon.
No matter.
It could so easily be me.
Am I thinking, "I'm glad I helped ... and I want to help some more! I get this."
Or am I thinking, "Wow. Pretty newsletter. They seem to be doing well for themselves. Good for them."
Where's the deep need, my amygdala mildly inquires? Damn you, Lizard Brain! Anyway: fear is a far stronger motivator (to make a very long story incredibly short).
In fundraising, it's easy to be slick: you just need to hire an agency employing competent professionals.
Can you be too slick, though? If your slick look stirs cognitive dissonance, blunting with the urgency and ugliness of your mission, is that bad? Less remunerative? I bet it is.
Slick is packaging, not core. Slick says "under corporate control." PR. Polished. Too smooth. Not real. Dishonest kinda. Slick.
Is this just another appeal in disguise?
Is it going to the right people? Are we now acquiring lots of one-time-only donors?
Is every component helping?