Let's talk about the loneliness.

Because fundraising can be lonely business.

Fundraising is a lonely business. There, I said it.

I don’t know how often this topic is discussed, or why it's not discussed more often, but fundraising is lonely AF. The donors, volunteers, and the staff to keep happy, the data to maintain and manage, the ever-increasing goals, the proposals to write, the calls to make, the emails to respond to, the copy to edit, and - unlike Silicon Valley start-ups that run millions in the red prior to ever making a profit - the need to do all of it on time and under budget - makes the fundraising profession feel like bowling alone.

Usually this blog covers optimizing the fundraising time function, or doing more with less, or applying essentialist principles to the work, or running a successful campaign, or developing a high-impact major gifts program, or why you should never dangle a participle, or why high waisted jeans are confusing, or why you should always start with “why”. Topics a bit more - well - utilitarian.

But this post is about a topic we don’t discuss very often: the paradoxical loneliness of the professional fundraiser.

It’s paradoxical because fundraising is about people. “People give to people,” so the saying goes. So it stands to reason that being liked (or likable) or affable would be key to success in advancement, and that our profession should be wall-to-wall with people who are brimming with affability. Yeah, that is partly true. The public persona of a fundraising professional is usually one of kindness, poise, and polish, brimming with mission and purpose. Kindness, responsiveness, and a commitment to the organization beyond commitment to self. But all that positive thoughtfulness doesn’t matter if it can’t be translated into desired outcomes.

That’s why it’s called “fundraising”. Because ultimately, results matter.

I got into this profession because I saw a deeply unfair and imbalanced world, and I wanted to make it better. And by working to redistribute the wealth and privilege I’d witnessed in College and during my brief time in finance to others, I thought every day would be full of profoundly existential meaning: Like building a stairway to heaven, or volunteering at a soup kitchen except you get paid, or earning points like Chidi on the “The Good Place”.

But these are also the roots of our loneliness, why it leads to burnout, and ultimately is the reason so many people decide to leave the fundraising profession entirely.

We are lonely because we are asked to monetize our faith in humanity.

We’re asked to convert our fundamental belief in the goodness of others into donations to our organization. We’re asked to build deep, authentic relationships with our constituents, but the relationships only serve the purpose of our home organization or are converted into donations, and do not travel when we move on. It’s like a relationship we pour hours and hours into, only to have a single transactive moment define its genuine goodness. Would you stay in a friendship or marriage with this dynamic?

So what I see is that fundraiser loneliness exists because we put everything we have into building relationships that are fundamentally and profoundly imbalanced - one way heartfelt relationships that will never be reciprocated.

It’s where my loneliness comes from. What about you?