As of right now, I no longer have any relationship with any hedge fund or other corporation besides the Clear Fund. That means I no longer have to fear that total idiots will associate the Clear Fund with any other entity. And that means … I can cast off my anonymity, lifting the veil of shadows that has cloaked me since December. While I’m at it, I’ll blow Elie’s and MichiganBob’s cover too. So read on if you dare, and see how deep the rabbit hole goes.
(Warning: this will not actually be the least bit interesting. Turns out, we’re just dudes.)
Secretive, cowardly pseudonym: Holden
Real name: Holden Karnofsky
Grew up in: Chicago ‘burbs
Education: bachelor’s, Harvard
Recent employment: 3 years at a hedge fund
Now lives in: NYC
If he could be any animal, he would be: a guy
Sexy: Yes
Single: Yes
Secretive, cowardly pseudonym: Elie
Real name: Elie Hassenfeld
Grew up in: Boston ‘burbs
Education: bachelor’s, Columbia
Recent employment: 3 years at a hedge fund (still employed)
Now lives in: NYC
If he could be any animal, he would be: a hammerhead shark
Sexy: No
Single: No
Secretive, cowardly pseudonym: MichiganBob
Real name: Bob Elliott
Grew up in: Detroit ‘burbs
Education: bachelor’s, Harvard
Recent employment: 2 years at a hedge fund (still employed)
Now lives in: CT
If he could be any animal, he would be: an altruistic mosquito, refusing to transmit malaria
Sexy: Yes
Single: No
The three of us are men – but some of our best friends are women, we swear.
So there you go, we’re real people now. To all you anonymity haters, I hope you’ve learned what you wanted to know, and that you now have a much better ability to engage critically with what we write. To those of you who are capable of analyzing the content of sentences on your own, this post may have been a waste of your time, but at least I warned you.
(Note: this blog post was made without input from Elie or MichiganBob.)
We think so. In fact, we’re banking on it. GiveWell’s mission is to help steer capital and foster dialogue, and that’s it. We plan to give grants the same way we’ve given our personal donations: look for charities that already have proven, effective, scalable ways of helping people – charities that already know what they’re doing – and give them money. No consulting, no expertise, no program development, and no restrictions. Money.
Part of it may be that foundations consider themselves experts in their fields, and they think they know more than the charities they fund. And they might be right … but that isn’t how we think of ourselves. We have a lot of options, so we demand a ton of information from charities, and we demand that they engage our questions and suggestions intelligently – but in the end, they know way more about their work than we do, and they should be the ones to decide how they do it. The donor’s role is to fund it.
But imagine if we actually put in the due diligence, and find the charities that already have smart, experienced, passionate people with proven, effective, scalable methods for helping people. Imagine if we find the organizations that have it all except money. At that point, it’s moot how much of our dollar is going to “overhead,” or anything else – sometimes overhead is necessary and sometimes it isn’t, and good people will make those decisions better than we can. At that point, it’s unnecessary for us to “keep the charities in line,” because they’ll keep themselves in line or lose next time around. Accountability, transparency, and competition are harsher taskmasters than any contract can be.
To be clear, I think NetSquared is an exciting idea. But where I come from, people celebrate a new client the day the client signs, not the day they decide to call the client and see if they’re interested. “Great research projects” refers to ideas that have been studied and stress-tested to death and produced returns, not to the ideas we had in this morning’s meeting. So as I’ve made clear, I’ve been pretty surprised by the extent to which people have called paragraphs on a screen “great projects,” and pointed to a “success” and “watershed event” where I saw an online poll that hadn’t even been tallied yet.
Our fundraising efforts have started, and dang, do I hate asking for money. For three years, I’ve had way more income than I can spend, and I’ve rarely had to ask anyone for anything. That’s a nice position to be in. This – especially for an abrasive guy like me – is tough.
That’s why you should be concerned that philanthropy is currently seen as something to do with the “second half” of your life. “Second half” here isn’t just chronological – it’s referring to the half that specifically isn’t where the philanthropist made their name. The second half is the half that lacks risk, accountability, and the people who keep one honest (a set of factors collectively known as the “eye of the tiger”). All the great foundations today are following the orders of people who’ve made their fortune doing something else, and who no longer have to consider any criticism they don’t care for. I have to believe that matters, no matter how good their intentions.
In addition to ~20 charity/philanthropy/social-goodliness blogs, I read one blog,
The thing is, in the business world it’s obvious to everyone that good isn’t good enough. You need to be the BEST, within your area, or else capital is better spent on your competitors – and you’re going to go under. But I don’t see why this is any less true of the nonprofit sector – all of it except the part about going under. Right now, there’s no mechanism for charitable capital (donations from individuals) to flow to where it’s best used, and that means no mechanism for inferior charities to go under, and THAT means no constant pressure to get better. That’s what we’re trying to change, because we think the people served by charities deserve the same relentless improvement and scrutiny that the people served by businesses benefit from.
Over 150 projects have been submitted for the NetSquared conference at the end of May, and only 20 will get to go. The winners will be determined by an online vote, open until this Saturday afternoon … and you know what that means: