📸 credit: AP Photo / Jon Cherry
As the Board Co-Chair of Funders’ Committee for Civic Participation, Estevan wrote this piece as the second in a FCCP Democracy Blog Series.
“The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”
These words, first articulated by abolitionist minister Theodore Parker and later immortalized by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., land just as profoundly today as when they were first uttered more than 150 years ago. And yet, as many have noted, the arc of the moral universe is not immutable; it bends precisely as much and as fast as We the People choose to bend it. The arc itself is not smooth or consistent, but marked by the sharp corners of social movements – the means through which communities exert influence on the path of social progress.
These are the inflection points: the historical movements for abolitionism, reconstruction, civil rights, women’s suffrage, LGBTQ rights, and so many others. But inflection points can mark negative shifts as well: slavery, the redemption period, Jim Crow, redlining, mass incarceration, recent restrictions to mail-in ballots, and the backlashes we have witnessed in response to nearly every major progressive step forward. These moments reflect not just a set of policy changes, but cultural and narrative shifts that influence how people understand the world around them and how we are oriented as a nation.
As we watch the unraveling of our democracy at the hands of an aspiring autocrat – and the apparatus that sustains him – we confront yet another inflection point. How hard are we willing to work today to bend the arc toward justice? Do we simply want to turn the clock back to October 2016? Or do we want to build something new, a stronger democracy that finally delivers on its promise of freedom and abundance for all of its people?
Our answers to these questions dictate how we as funders respond at this moment. As our government criminalizes protest, surveils organizers, threatens the integrity of our electoral process, and targets immigrant communities, our funding strategies reveal – loudly – which reality we choose to accommodate.
Which potential future are we betting on? Are we building toward collective trust and liberation, or reinforcing hierarchical control over strategy, metrics, and outcomes? Will we preemptively cede power, or boldly align with the majority of Americans yearning for a thriving, multiracial democracy? Will we choose the pursuit of justice, even if it threatens the system that has facilitated our wealth and prominence in the philanthropic ecosystem?
For funders serious about fighting the rise of authoritarianism, this is what it looks like in practice (an evolving list):
- Fund protest infrastructure. Support the training, organizing, and legal defense funds needed to protect communities before the arrests happen – not after. The right to peaceful assembly is fundamental to any democracy we hope to cultivate.
- Invest in litigation. We know this administration plans to subvert the integrity of the electoral process via disenfranchisement, intimidation and efforts to challenge the counting and certification of ballots. Litigation – before, after, and on Election Day – is critical to protecting the integrity of democratic practice.
- Fund policy work that insulates communities from attack. Resource the advocacy efforts that fight for governance year-round, not just during high-profile elections. Governance is what makes elections meaningful. If new leadership doesn’t build momentum for new policy agendas, what was the point of funding the election to begin with?
- Support state and regional organizing infrastructure. State and local ecosystems are where community power is actually built and tested. To thrive, they require dedicated investment.
- Divest from entities that actively uphold authoritarian systems. This is fundamental: Stop investing in entities that actively oppose democratic rule (such as oil, prison, tech, and finance industries).
- Increase real investment, not just intention. Most foundations are sitting on endowments largely disconnected from their missions. 5% payouts are woefully insufficient in this time of systemic collapse, especially as some endowments have grown by as much as 10-12% in recent years. Additionally, mission-related and program-related investments (MRIs and PRIs) can activate capital currently working against the goals our grantmaking claims to serve.
- Commit multi-year, general operating support. Communities can’t build durable power on single-year, restricted grants. They need the trust and time horizon that power-building actually requires, which means grant terms of three to five years – or more.
- Embrace the multi-entity ecosystem. Many 501(c)(3) funders remain unaware that private foundations (and donor-advised funds) are legally allowed to support grantees that engage in lobbying and advocacy, including 501(c)(4) organizations. Explore the ways in which general operating support and expenditure responsibility grants can increase your impact on the ground.
- Use your institutional voice, publicly. Proactively share your funding strategy with peers and movement partners. This is necessary not just to build sector alignment, but also to embrace accountability.
Naming these strategies is easy; practicing them consistently is where the real work begins.
This is why spaces like FCCP matter to me. I have found real value being part of a community where funders wrestle openly with how philanthropy must evolve to meet this moment. National networks and intermediaries offer members the opportunity to build the relationships and depth of understanding necessary to develop shared analyses and hone funding strategies. These spaces are critical for our collective ability to interrogate practices, build alignment, and hold each other accountable during these times of fear and retrenchment. Like all nonprofits, philanthropy-serving organizations (PSOs) have an important role in building a wholly just and equitable democracy.
The rise of authoritarianism poses an existential threat to our democracy, and that should terrify us all. But I remain hopeful, inspired by the potential for collective courage, and all that is possible when people join together to bend the arc of the moral universe toward justice. This is the future I am betting on.
I hope you’ll join me and the FCCP community as we continue to wrestle with these questions, and envision the democracy our nation has always needed.
