My experience with Time Warner Cable has always been good in the past, but then, I’ve always lived in areas where DSL is also available.

Now, I’ve apparently moved into an area where they are the only option – and the difference is amazing and immediate. They miss appointments. They ignore complaints. They don’t fix things that are broken and they’re content to let their customers rot. I’ll spare you the details, but chalk up one more for the case that if you want someone to do a good job with anything, your best bet is to get them competing against someone else.

This is a long way of telling you that my Internet access is sporadic today and I can’t promise a full blog post. The one coming up is a good one – a real update on our project – and it’ll be here within the next few days.

Meanwhile, one micro-rant to hold you over. When I see someone who normally only criticizes charities open a post with “I come today not to bury a charity, but to praise one,” I get excited. I think I’m going to read about someone with a brilliant method for helping people. When, instead, I read about yet another innovative fundraising technique … with no mention of the charity’s activities … and I remember that in my search through the philanthropy blogosphere, I’ve find one blog that discusses how to help people and 14,000 that discuss how to raise money … I’m not happy. It seems clear to me that in the current state of things, charities compete all right – just on the wrong terms.

An objection to our project that I get occasionally goes something like this: sure, it would be great if people really understood the complexities involved in helping people and gave accordingly – but aren’t we worried that revealing these complexities will just make them want to give less? What happens when people learn that charity in Africa is more complicated than “5 cents saves a life,” that charity in the US is more complicated than “Check it out, an adorable child,” and finding a low Straw Ratio isn’t the same thing as finding the best use of your donation?

Well, let’s break it down. If we succeed in creating a public dialogue about how best to help people, and a website where any donor can get a picture of what charities do and whether it works, there will be some ways in which this might make the pie bigger (more total giving) and others in which it might make the pie smaller (less).

Pie bigger: some donors are too analytical for traditional fundraising to work on them; the only way they can have confidence in something is if they have real information. As I argued here, giving them that information is key to getting them to give.

Pie bigger: some donors simply do not know where to start. That’s the boat I was in when I started GiveWell, and it took seconds to find like-minded people. As I argued here, there’s a world of difference between a resource that gives a “checkup” on thousands of charities and one that gives them a fully thought out decision to start playing with.

Pie bigger: controversy and conflict aren’t always a bad thing. As I argued here, bringing out the complexity and difficulty of charity means turning it into something challenging and engaging, rather than sweet and boring.

Pie smaller: some donors honestly believe that the charities they donate to – unlike every organization in the world – have never made a debatable choice or (heavens forbid) a mistake. As soon as they get wind, it’s less charity and bigger houses for them.

Pie smaller: some donors don’t want to be bothered with the details. Giving them a lot of information will overwhelm them, and they’ll give up before they can ever get out their credit cards.

So it could go either way, in theory. A couple things, though.

First off, the balance is tilted quite a bit by the simple fact of life that people seek out what interests them. We all know how people behave when they don’t want to think too hard about their vote: they just vote, straight-ticket, and ignore all the debates and analysis going on around them. In the end, donors who either don’t recognize or don’t want to understand the complexity in charity will just ignore us, and listen to the fundraisers. That’s extremely easy to do – much easier than doing things our way. (If it ever isn’t, that means we must have gotten really big.) By the time someone reads our research, they’re already expressing (a) an active interest in giving (b) a willingness to put effort into understanding the whole story. It’s hard to do that while fitting the profile of someone who quits in the face of imperfection or complexity. Bottom line, it seems pretty farfetched to think that we’ll reach more people who don’t care about what we’re doing than people who do care.

Secondly, it doesn’t just matter how big the pie is, it matters what’s in it. The donors we’re in danger of “pushing out” (again, I find it hard to believe they will even be aware of us) are the least intelligent and/or least engaged ones. The donations we’re in danger of eliminating are the ones that are floating about almost at random, to whatever charity says “We’re perfect” first. Meanwhile, the donors we hope to bring in are the ones who care enough to want to put in some extra time and figure out how to do as much good as possible. They’re the ones who can contribute to the dialogue, and they’ll probably be contributing more money as well. Contrary to what you may have heard, there are worse things than a smaller pie. Like a half-baked one.

(To those of you who saw that ending coming 5 paragraphs ago, I apologize. The marketing dept made me do it.)

Generally, I’m less interested in getting people to give more than I am in getting them to give well – I think of healing the world as a project that needs a better, smarter budget more than it needs a bigger one.

But here’s a very simple idea on the subject that I don’t believe most (any?) fundraisers understand. A lot of people don’t give as much as they could, because they have no idea what they’re paying for.

You call the page at this link transparency? Seriously? 5 disconnected and unsourced price quotes, and a fundraising/program expense breakdown? This is a joke. This is a smoke screen. So 5 pounds buys a mosquito net … who distributes it, who uses it, and how many of the children the net protects from dengue fever die the next day from diarrhea? 17 pounds buys a blackboard and 32/mo pays a teacher – what about the administrator? Who trains the teacher? What do they teach? What else do those children need to escape poverty? You think this gives me an idea of what you do, what I’m paying for, how I can expect the world to improve thanks to my donation? All this does is convince me that you think I’m a sucker.

Not everyone has my reaction, it could be pointed out. Some people feel like they’ve gotten the whole story from those meaningless numbers. Fine. But go back to my initial claim: some people aren’t falling for it. Some people are more analytical and less impulsive than others. Which group do you think has more disposable income?

I don’t believe I’m alone here. Not when so many of the people I talk to about charity in general say they don’t have any idea what their donations are paying for, and even explicitly cite misleading crap like what I’ve linked to above as a turn-off. Not when many of our donors tell me that their donation to The Clear Fund is in a completely different ballpark from any other gift they’ve ever made. There are people out there who would give more if they really understood what it was for; that’s money waiting to be raised.

Fundraisers, you have your choice: you can use manipulative marketing and go for the easy kill; you can tell the truth and go after the donors who won’t be suckered; or you can do both. Why does the first approach seem like the only one you’ve even tried?

This comment struck me. It makes me wonder how many people get their “nonprofit niceness” (the bane of my existence nowadays) from a determination to act as though “we’re all on the same side.” The thing is, I do think we’re all on the same side – at least, those of us who are in this sector to help people, and not just to draw salary – and that’s exactly why I’m so adamant that conflict and competition be encouraged.

When different people are working toward the same goal, one of the most valuable things they can share with each other is their intelligence. Because they come from different perspectives and have different ways of thinking, they will have different opinions. That isn’t to be hidden or lamented, it’s to be celebrated. And when it comes to sharing different opinions, cooperation is conflict. I don’t know of any way for my mind to benefit from someone else’s, except through examining the differences.

Sometimes, simple examination and conflict will leave us all on the same page; but when intelligent people continue to disagree on the best course of action, one way or another they must compete – whether by making their case to the person who makes the ultimate decisions (the funder), or by each getting their own funding and letting reality provide the final test. Again, that isn’t unfortunate – it just means trying more than one tactic to get to the same end.

Conflict doesn’t just happen between armies; it happens between generals, precisely because those generals are so determined to win. Competition doesn’t just happen between two football teams; it happens between the players on the team, because letting Rex Grossman and Kyle Orton compete to play quarterback is what’s best for the Chicago Bears. Conflict and competition aren’t just things I want to see in massive marketplaces and nations; I also want to see them within families, companies, and communities. The people I challenge and criticize most are the ones who are most on my side, because that’s how we’re going to get our best shot at accomplishing our collective goal. If you think Elie and I are nice to each other, you haven’t met either of us.

When one charity hesitates to criticize another in the same field, that doesn’t tell me they’re cooperating; it tells me they aren’t working as hard as they can toward what’s supposed to be their common goal. My vision for the nonprofit sector is one of constant debate, conflict, and competition. Then, and only then, will the sector truly be like one giant family.