Are You Trustwashing?
By Shaady Salehi
9/14/2023
The rise of trust-based philanthropy has led to a dramatic increase in funders referring to themselves as “trust-based.” Some of those funders are genuinely committed to the nuanced and iterative work of trust-based philanthropy, which requires a willingness to confront power imbalances and systemic inequities across all dimensions of our work.
Other funders are using the term much more loosely. The following examples of trustwashing – which are, to be clear, not necessarily intentional misappropriations – have been cropping up as the phrase gains popularity across the sector:
Some funders say they’re trust-based because they fund organizations and people they trust. While this stance may seem harmless enough, it represents an oversimplified perception of trust-based philanthropy that runs the risk of perpetuating inequities in the greater nonprofit ecosystem. Given that the vast majority of foundation leaders and individual donors come from predominantly white, educated, and affluent backgrounds, they are inevitably more inclined to trust leaders and organizations that align with their background and cultural expectations. Trust-based philanthropy encourages funders to confront their implicit biases and to rigorously do the homework to build relationships with leaders and organizations whose efforts are rooted in a deep sense of accountability toward the communities they serve. As Phil Li of Robert Sterling Clark Foundation often notes, “TBP is not about trust for likeability, but trust for impact.”
Some funders consider themselves trust-based because they give unrestricted grants. While multi-year, unrestricted funding is one of the core grantmaking practices of a comprehensive trust-based approach, the work goes much deeper than grantmaking alone. For this reason, we often point out that it’s not about checking the boxes of the six practices, but rather committing to the iterative work of aligning power consciousness and equity across your organizational culture, structures, leadership, and practices. In the context of grantee relationships, being a trust-based funder means fully committing to using your power, access, and resources to uplift, amplify, and bolster the vision of nonprofits and communities. Multiyear, unrestricted funding is one tactical way to do that, but if the funding comes with a set of funder-defined metrics, heavy reporting, requisites for collaboration, painstaking compliance measures, and uncertainty about funding renewals, then it is not an example of trust-based philanthropy.
Some funders only trust organizations that meet their lengthy and burdensome due diligence requirements. This example is part of a broader narrative in conventional philanthropy in which grantees are expected to earn the funder’s trust or prove their trustworthiness in order to receive funding. Funders with this stance may consider themselves trust-based because they are selective about identifying organizations that are, in their minds, “low-risk” and inherently more trustworthy. In this example of trustwashing, indicators of trustworthiness are often things like: cash reserves in the bank, diversity of funding, educational background of leadership, a linear theory of change, shiny annual reports, and the ability to prove quantitative impact. This transactional mindset perpetuates a vicious cycle of funding disparities by extending “trust” to organizations that are already relatively well-established and well-funded. As a result, many community-based organizations, grassroots initiatives, startups, and unconventional organizations – many of which are often led by Black, Indigenous and people of color – are inherently siphoned off. Trust-based philanthropy offers a counterpoint to this perspective, encouraging funders to lead from a place of trust, while striving to be trustworthy partners to their grantees via collaboration and communication.
Some funders may use the phrase because they don’t want to admit that conventional philanthropy operates from a place of inherent distrust. These are folks who may simply say, “of course we trust our grantees!” without a willingness to interrogate how their structures and systems are reinforcing power dynamics that inhibit their grantees’ ability to deliver on their mission. (For example, if they heavily restrict how grant funds can be used, if they ask repeat grantees to reapply year after year, or if they require quarterly reports that satisfy the foundation’s indicators of success.) This category of trustwashing is probably the most problematic because it comes with a sense of denial about philanthropy’s outsized power and influence over the entire nonprofit sector. By disregarding the historical harms imposed by philanthropy, this trustwashing mindset also minimizes funders’ accountability to nonprofits and communities – and thus doesn’t take into account the need to strive for mutual trust.
All of the above examples point to an unfortunate side effect of the trust-based philanthropy movement: given the perceived universality of the word “trust,” many are ascribing their own meaning to what it means to be “trust-based”. This is not only watering down the public perception of what this work is really about, but it is creating confusion for nonprofits who are navigating the minefield of fundraising.
As Stacey Faella of Woodcock Foundation points out, taking on the banner of “trust-based philanthropy” comes with great responsibility. It comes with an unspoken oath: that your work must continue to be in service to those who are doing the work on the ground. Being a trust-based funder means constantly assessing whether or not you are fulfilling that goal, and always asking yourself how you can learn and do better on that commitment. That is part of what makes this approach so rigorous and iterative, and also incredibly rewarding and impactful.
Shaady Salehi is the Executive Director for the Trust-Based Philanthropy Project.
