The Difference Between Giving and Generosity

When I first started working in fundraising, I thought the ultimate goal was clear: help people give. And yes—giving is good. It fuels missions, supports change, and keeps organizations running.

But over time, I realized that increasing giving is not the same as cultivating generosity.

Regrets—and What It Taught Me

Early in my career, I attended a networking event and was drawn to a speaker who seemed deeply aligned with the values of the organization I worked for. I thought, He’d be a great donor.

So I introduced myself afterward and invited him to lunch—not as a fundraiser, but as someone looking for a mentor. I presented it as a personal, informal connection. But beneath the surface, I was hoping that this might lead to financial support.

We met a few times. On the third lunch, he asked me, “So what do you do?”

When I told him I was a fundraiser, I saw something shift in his expression. Not judgment—just surprise. It was clear he felt caught off guard.

I was embarrassed. We never met again. He never made a gift.

And I learned something I’ve carried ever since: you can pursue a gift without cultivating generosity—and sometimes at the cost of it.

The Same Tools Can Serve Generosity—or Exploitation

A donor lunch isn’t inherently bad. Neither is a mailed appeal, a gift proposal, or a video appeal on YouTube. These are just tactics.

But tactics can be bent toward very different ends.

They can be used to foster connection, clarity, and shared purpose. They can expand each partners’ view of the world and the people in it.

Or they can be used to manipulate. To flatter. To guilt. To extract. And when we use them that way—when we pursue gifts without care for how the donor experiences the process—we can easily cross a line into exploitation.

Exploitation doesn’t always look sinister. It can wear a smile and quote your mission statement. But it still leaves people feeling used.

True Generosity Isn’t About Your Organization

Here’s a deeper shift that changed how I think about fundraising: True generosity doesn’t end with a gift to our organization. In fact, it might not include one at all.

Generosity is a posture toward the world. It’s how someone gives their money, yes—but also their time, their attention, and their trust.

The question we should be asking ourselves isn’t just did they give? It’s:

After this conversation, will this person be more or less likely to be generous to others in the future?

It’s not just about whether we secured the donation—it’s about whether we contributed to a person’s growth in generosity, or hindered it.

The Pressure Is Real—and That’s What Makes This Hard

Let me be clear: nonprofit leaders are under immense pressure.

We face budgets to meet, programs to sustain, and often, the very survival of the work we care about is on the line. It’s no wonder we sometimes default to tactics that “work,” even if they cost us something relationally or ethically.

I get it. I’ve felt that pressure. It’s not small.

But we have to ask ourselves—what kind of culture are we building if we hit our numbers but shrink our donors’ trust in the process? What does it mean if our mission succeeds, but people feel less open, less free, and less generous because of their experience with us?

What We Actually Want

We don’t just want gifts. We want growth.

We want to help people live open-handed lives.

We want to make it more likely—not less—that they’ll say “yes” again. To us. To others. To the needs they see in their communities.

Even early on, I had a sense that fundraising was about more than money—it was about growing generosity.

What I needed wasn’t a new idea—it was a reminder of something I had known deep down all along:

Our work isn’t just about securing gifts. It’s about shaping people who are more generous, not just to us, but to the world.

This reflection was sparked in part by Jason Lewis’s recent article on “The Gift Doesn’t Want to Be Predicted or Controlled—It Wants to Be Experienced”. His writing helped surface language for something I’ve long felt but struggled to name. I highly recommend it.