3 SEEING LIKE A PHILANTHROPIST From the Business of Benevolence to the Benevolence of Business Aaron Horvath and Walter W. Powell1 Over the course of American history, philanthropists have been both praised and pilloried, depicted as redeemers of democracy and a threat to it. Despite the shifting social terrain in which they have operated, philanthropists—and the organizations they create—have grown in number and influence, acting as a catalytic force in the genesis and development of the modern nonprofit sector. Philanthropic largesse has also played a powerful role in shaping civic life and political affairs. This chapter argues that it is important to understand not only how philanthropists are seen, but also how they see. In narrating the development of American philanthropy from the late nineteenth to the early twenty-first centuries, our aim is to capture changes in what it means to “see like a philanthropist”—that is, to illuminate the meanings and ends of philanthropic wealth. We focus on three core influences on philanthropic visions: (1) the sources of philanthropic wealth, (2) its organizational embodiments, and (3) the criticisms leveled at its outsized influence. We examine the reciprocal dynamic between political challenges to elite power and philanthropic visions. We show that philanthropists have transposed the practices they used to earn their great fortunes into the organizational routines of their philanthropies and turned these into requirements for those who receive their funding. The actions of past philanthropists weigh heavily on future philanthropists. Consequently, the political might of philanthropy both channels and enables the critiques to which its influence is subjected. In narrating this long arc of history, we show how super-rich people’s percep- tions of themselves and their role in public life have evolved as well as the myriad ways philanthropy has altered civic and political discourse. Connecting Past and Present In 1855, a young John D. Rockefeller purchased a ten-cent red notebook he named Ledger A. Following the counsel of Ben Franklin’s Autobiography, Rockefeller began to track his daily virtues and vices, record acts of thrift, and train impulse into reason. Rockefeller took to personal bookkeeping with zeal, recording his earnings and expenditures with exacting detail. Listed alongside his modest early income as a clerk for Hewitt and Tuttle are many acts of charity, including contributions to Baptist missions, Catholic orphanages, “a poor woman in church,” and a black man in Cleveland to “buy his wife” out of slavery in 1859. 81 03_Ch 3_final.indd 81 11/15/19 5:08 PM 82 Chapter 3 Organized charity was only just beginning to take shape. By the end of the nineteenth century, social gospelers and fledgling progressives would seek to ameliorate the social ills of the era. Settlement houses would take root in American cities, and Salvation Army chapters would provide soup, soap, and salvation to the needy. A modern ecumenical form of noblesse oblige—detailed in Carnegie’s “Gospel of Wealth”—would soon be articulated.2 Rockefeller’s fortunes—as well as the scale and precision of his beneficence—grew alongside these charitable developments (Chernow 1988:46–51). In 1892, with the aid of a Baptist clergyman, the Reverend Frederick Gates, Rockefeller’s penchant for per- sonal and industrial discipline developed into philanthropic discipline. “No longer [was I] groping my way, without sufficient guide or chart, through this ever-widening field of philanthropic endeavor,” wrote Rockefeller of Gates’s influence (Rockefeller 1909:156). Rockefeller began to practice “scientific giving,” which entailed “laying aside retail giving almost wholly, and entering safely and pleasurably into the field of wholesale philanthropy” (Gates 1977:161). The business metaphor was apt. Early efforts in wholesale philanthropy included a $600,000 founding donation to the University of Chicago (a school that, save for the chapel, does not bear his name), the establishment of the General Education Board to fund black and white education in the rural South, and efforts to eradicate hookworm. Speaking at a small dinner celebrating the tenth anniversary of the University of Chi- cago, Rockefeller exhorted his fellow businessmen and foreshadowed his philanthropic ambitions: Let us be as careful with the money we would spend for the benefit of others as if we were laying it aside for our own family’s future use. Directors carry on these affairs [on] your behalf. Let us erect a foundation, a Trust, and engage directors who will make it a life work to manage, without personal cooperation, this business of benevolence properly and effec- tively. And I beg of you, attend to it now, don’t wait (Rockefeller 1909:187–188). Rockefeller did not wait long. In 1909, he signed a deed of trust covering 72,569 shares of Standard Oil—roughly $50,000,000—and entrusted his son, his son-in-law, and Mr. Gates to administer his fortune. As he had done in recent years, he planned to call on business- men, scientists, and doctors to advise his giving. Seeking legislative approval, he requested a bill of incorporation from the federal government. Similar trusts had been granted legislative approval before. The American Histori- cal Association had been incorporated by an act of Congress in 1889, and the Carnegie Institution of Washington had been incorporated in 1903—the same year Rockefeller’s General Education Board had received its charter. Moreover, Rockefeller did not need to receive a congressional charter: his deed of trust was sufficient to establish the Rockefeller Foundation. But a congressional charter would enable Congress to override the founda- tion, and Rockefeller reasoned that this would insure against improper use of his money by future generations. Rockefeller’s timing could not have been worse. He and his industrial powerhouse were subjected to increasing obloquy over the previous decade. Ida Tarbell, the famous muckraking journalist, sketched a scathing critique of Standard Oil. Regarding Rockefeller, she concluded that “our national life is on every side distinctly poorer, uglier, meaner, for the kind of influence he exercises.”3 In 1908, a jury in Chicago found Standard Oil guilty on 1,903 counts of taking railroad rebates. Before the judge could levy a $29,240,000 fine 03_Ch 3_final.indd 82 11/15/19 5:08 PM Seeing Like a Philanthropist 83 against the company, U.S. Marshals had to pry Rockefeller away from the Massachusetts hiding place where he had been evading subpoena. Then, amid mounting public enthu- siasm for dismantling monopolies, the U.S. Department of Justice sued Standard Oil for violation of the Sherman Antitrust Act. The oilman’s image was further blackened when his employee, John Archbold, was caught trying to buy political leniency from senators and a presidential candidate. Endorsement of and association with Standard Oil and its controversial leader had become a liability. By the time Senate Bill 6888 to incorporate the Rockefeller Foundation was announced, opinions on Rockefeller’s charity were mixed. To some, incorporating the foundation meant endorsing “tainted money,” “the Trojan horse,” and the “kiss of Judas.” Others saw it as a redemptive opportunity, arguing that “the public ought to welcome whatever good the money can produce.” Recent sins, however, were fresh in political leaders’ minds. President William Howard Taft denounced the bill as “an act to incorporate John D. Rockefeller,” and Taft’s attorney general, George Wickersham, referred to the bill as “an indefinite scheme for perpetuating vast wealth.” Was it appropriate, Wickersham argued, that “Congress . should assist in the enactment of a law to create and perpetuate in his name an institution to hold and administer a large portion of his vast wealth?”4 Opposition to the bill developed in Congress over several years, collecting conditions and limitations5 before it ultimately collapsed. Rockefeller’s reputation was too tarnished, his proposed foundation too big, his vision too broad. In the absence of congressional approval, Rockefeller and his advisors withdrew the bill from Congress and requested a charter from the State of New York instead. The charter was signed into law on May 14, 1913. Mirroring the language of Rockefeller’s original deed of trust, it described the foundation’s expansive purpose succinctly: “. to promote the well-being of mankind throughout the world.”6 Just over a century after the incorporation of the Rockefeller Foundation in New York, a thirty-one-year-old Internet mogul, Mark Zuckerberg, took to his decade-old platform, Facebook, to make an announcement in the form of a letter to his unborn daughter. He and his wife, Priscilla Chan, would commit 99 percent of their company shares—roughly $45 billion—to advances in health care and education. They would think long term, rely on the advice of experts, and leverage modern technologies and business models to improve the world around them.7 Their mission, though couched in the language of the time, had a familiar ring: “. advancing human potential and promoting equality.” The announcement grabbed headlines and was widely lauded by businesspeople and politicians,8 but, like his robber baron predecessor, Zuckerberg had experimented with other forms of charitable giving before creating his own philanthropic organization. In 2010, Zuckerberg, working alongside Governor Chris Christie and Mayor Cory Booker, had announced on the Oprah Winfrey Show a $100 million gift to revamp the public schools of Newark, New Jersey. Although Zuckerberg had never visited the city, he felt confident that he could save it: In running a company, the main thing I have to do is find people that are going to be re- ally great leaders and invest in them. And that’s what we’re doing here. We’re setting up a 03_Ch 3_final.indd 83 11/15/19 5:08 PM 84 Chapter 3 $100 million challenge grant .