On Building Fundraising That’s Worthy of the Mission
Over the last decade and a half, I’ve had a front-row seat to the evolution of mass market fundraising. I’ve seen tools change, channels multiply, and data become more abundant than any team can reasonably absorb. What has changed less—often to the detriment of the work—is how willing organizations are to ask hard questions about what their fundraising is actually doing in the world.
At scale, fundraising is not a series of campaigns. It is infrastructure. It determines whether programs are reliable or fragile, whether organizations can respond quickly to crisis, and whether ambition is constrained by fear or supported by durable systems. When fundraising works, it quietly underwrites everything else. When it doesn’t, no amount of mission clarity can compensate.
We are living through a period of profound attention scarcity. Audiences are inundated, trust is fragile, and institutions are understandably risk-averse. In response, many organizations default to safe, familiar messaging—content that offends no one, challenges nothing, and ultimately earns little. The cost of this approach is not just underperformance. It is a slow erosion of belief: belief in the audience, belief in the work, and belief in what the organization is capable of asking for.
I believe effective fundraising begins with respect—for the people we serve and for the people who choose to support that work. That respect shows up in content that tells the truth clearly, that invites supporters into partnership rather than performance, and that treats emotion not as a lever to be pulled but as a shared human reality. Strong fundraising does not simplify the work to make it palatable; it clarifies the stakes so participation feels meaningful.
Creative courage, on its own, is not enough. At scale, bold ideas must be paired with rigor. Testing matters. Learning matters. Iteration matters. The goal is progress—measured honestly and improved continuously. The organizations that succeed over time are the ones willing to hold both: imagination and discipline, ambition and accountability.
The throughline of my career has been building systems that can carry that weight. Systems that perform under pressure. Systems that allow teams to do work they are proud of. Systems that make it possible for missions—especially those serving vulnerable children and families—to show up consistently, not just when circumstances are favorable.
Fundraising at its best is an act of responsibility. Responsibility to the mission. Responsibility to supporters. And responsibility to the people whose lives depend on whether the work succeeds. That is the standard I hold myself and my teams to, and it is the standard I believe this moment requires.

