Sunday, 1 July 2018
‘Shopping for Change’: World Vision Canada and Consumption-Oriented Philanthropy in the Age of Philanthrocapitalism
VOLUNTAS: International Journal of Voluntary and Nonprofit Organizations
April 2017, Volume 28, Issue 2, pp 455–471 | Cite as
Authors
Authors and affiliations
Vincci LiEmail author
1.
Original Paper
First Online: 04 October 2016
Abstract
According to Charity Intelligence Canada, in 2014, at least 21 Canadian non-profits published a gift catalogue featuring a range of “products”a that donors could “purchase” for people in need. These charity gift catalogues, along with other shopping-inspired fundraising initiatives, represent a significant shift in the philanthropic arena towards philanthrocapitalism. Using two World Vision Canada campaigns as exemplars, this article offers a critical analysis of what the author calls “consumption-oriented philanthropy”b—a class of charitable giving that is heavily guided by market principles without involving a consumer product. Unlike purchase-triggered donation campaigns (in which a charitable donation is made when a consumer product is purchased), consumption-oriented philanthropy does not require the purchase of a for-profit commodity; instead, consumption-oriented philanthropy reformulates aid recipients or charitable aid itself into symbolic commodities. By re-framing charitable aid as a pseudo-shopping experience, however, consumption-oriented philanthropy ushers in an entirely different set of values, expectations, and logic that shapes the way in which donors understand and engage in philanthropic giving.
Keywords
Philanthropy Charitable giving World Vision Charity gift catalogue Philanthrocapitalism
Résumé
Selon Charity Intelligence Canada, au moins 21 organismes sans but lucratif canadiens ont publié, en 2014, un catalogue de cade aux présentant une gamme de « produits » pouvant être « achetés » par des donateurs au profit d’individus dans le besoin. Sur la scène philanthropique, ces catalogues, jumelés à d’autres initiatives de financement de style boutique, représentent un important glissement vers le philanthrocapitalisme. En se servant de deux campagnes de World Vision Canada à titre d’exemple, le présent article offre une analyse critique de ce que l’auteur appelle la « philanthropie axée sur la consommation » , soit une catégorie de dons de bienfaisance lourdement guidée par des principes de marché, sans toutefois impliquer des produits de consommation. À l’opposé des campagnes de bienfaisance générées par des achats (où un don est réalisé lorsqu’un produit de consommation est acheté), la philanthropie axée sur la consommation ne requiert aucun achat de denrées commerciales. Elle redéfinit plutôt les bénéficiaires de l’assistance ou l’aide caritative elle-même en marchandises symboliques. En recadrant l’aide caritative dans un contexte rappelant l’expérience d’achat, la philanthropie axée sur la consommation ouvre toutefois la porte à un ensemble de valeurs, des attentes et une logique entièrement repensés, qui sculptent la façon dont les donateurs appréhendent et prennent part aux activités philanthropiques.
Zusammenfassung
Laut Charity Intelligence Canada gaben 2014 mindestens 21 kanadische gemeinnützige Organisationen Geschenkkataloge heraus, die eine Reihe von „Produkten“anboten, die Spender für bedürftige Menschen „kaufen“konnten. Diese Geschenkkataloge und andere Shopping-Spendenaktionen stellen im philanthropischen Bereich einen bedeutenden Wandel hin zum Philanthrokapitalismus dar. Am Beispiel zweier Kampagnen von World Vision Canada bietet dieser Beitrag eine kritische Analyse dessen, was der Autor als „konsumorientierte Philanthropie“bezeichnet—eine Spendenkategorie, die sich stark an Marktprinzipien orientiert, ohne dass ein Verbraucherprodukt einbezogen ist. Im Gegensatz zu Kampagnen, bei denen Spenden durch Einkäufe getätigt werden (eine Spende erfolgt, wenn ein Verbraucherprodukt gekauft wird), bedarf es bei der konsumorientierten Philanthropie nicht des Erwerbs eines gewinnorientierten Artikels, sondern es werden die Hilfeempfänger oder die karitative Hilfe selbst symbolisch als Waren präsentiert. Durch die Umformulierung der karitativen Hilfe als Pseudo-Shoppingerlebnis führt die konsumorientierte Philanthropie allerdings eine gänzlich andere Reihe von Werten, Erwartungen und Logiken ein, die sich darauf auswirken, wie die Spender philanthropisches Spenden verstehen und sich daran beteiligen.
Resumen
Según Charity Intelligence Canada, en 2014, al menos 21 organizaciones canadienses sin ánimo de lucro publicaron un catálogo de regalos presentando una gama de “productos”a que los donantes podían “comprar” para personas necesitadas. Estos catálogos de regalos benéficos, junto con otras iniciativas para recaudar fondos inspiradas en las compras, representan un cambio significativo en la escena filantrópica hacia el filantrocapitalismo. Utilizando dos campañas de World Vision Canada como ejemplos, el presente artículo ofrece un análisis crítico de lo que el autor denomina “filantropía orientada al consumo”b—una clase de donación benéfica que está fuertemente guiada por los principios del mercado sin implicar a un producto de consumo. Al contrario que las campañas de donación activadas por compras (en las que se realiza una donación benéfica cuando un producto de consumo es comprado), la filantropía orientada al consumo no requiere la compra de un producto con ánimo de lucro; más bien, la filantropía orientada al consumo reformula a los receptores de la ayuda o a la propia ayuda benéfica como productos simbólicos. Sin embargo, al replantear la ayuda benéfica como una experiencia de pseudo-compra, la filantropía orientada al consumo da lugar a un conjunto totalmente diferente de valores, expectativas y lógica que da forma al modo en que los donantes comprenden y se implican en la donación filantrópica.
摘要
根据《加拿大慈善情报》,2014年期间,至少有21家加拿大非营利性组织公布了礼品目录,该种目录中列明了一系列可供捐献者为有需要的人们进行“购买”的“产品”。与其他受购物活动启发的筹款计划一起,这些慈善礼品目录代表了慈善领域向慈善资本主义(philanthrocapitalism)的重大转变。本文采用两个加拿大宣明会活动作为范例,对“消费导向型慈善活动(consumption-oriented philanthropy)”进行了批判性分析。所谓的“消费导向型慈善活动”是指很大程度上受市场原则引导的、但不涉及消费品的一种慈善捐献。与由购买引发的捐献活动(在该种活动中,人们在购买消费品的同时进行了慈善捐献)不同,消费导向型慈善并不要求购买以赢利为目的的商品。消费导向型慈善活动重新将捐助受众与慈善捐助设计为象征性商品。通过将慈善捐助重新设计成具有一定购物性的体验,消费导向型慈善活动开辟了一系列完全不同的价值、预期与逻辑,重塑了捐献者对慈善捐赠的理解与参与方式。.
要約
チャリティー・インテリジェンス・カナダによれば、2014 年には少なくともカナダの非営利組織21団体が、必要に応じて寄付者が「購入」できる「製品」のギフト・カタログを出版したことになっている。このチャリティー・ギフト・カタログは、その他のショッピングに触発された募金の取り組みと共に、資本主義式慈善事業における社会貢献分野で大きな変化を示している。本論文では、2つのワールド・ビジョン・カナダのキャンペーンを用いて、消費者製品を使用せずに、市場原理によって導かれる慈善活動のクラスとして、「消費指向の社会貢献」b と呼ばれる重要な分析を提示する。購入を誘因する寄付キャンペーン(消費者向け製品を購入した際に慈善寄付をする)とは異なって、消費者向けの社会貢献分野は営利目的の商品購入を必要とせず、象徴的な商品自体の慈善活動の援助や被援助者を再構成する。擬似ショッピング体験として慈善の援助を再フレーミングすることによって、資金提供者が慈善に従事する方法を形成する理論、期待、燃費志向の消費者向けの社会貢献の先駆け値を構成する.
ملخص
وفقا لإستخبارات خيرية كندية، في عام 2014، نشرت 21 على الأقل من منظمات غير ربحية كندية كتالوج هدية يضم مجموعة من “المنتجات” على أن الجهات المانحة يمكنها “شراؤها” للمحتاجين. هذه الكتالوجات هدية خيرية، جنبا” إلى جنب مع مبادرات جمع تبرعات أخرى مستوحاة من التسوق، تمثل تحول كبير في الساحة الخيرية نحو وسيلة جديدة لممارسة العمل الخيري. بإستخدام إثنين من حملات منظمة الرؤية العالمية الكندية، النماذج، تقدم في هذه المقالة تحليل نقدي لما يسميه الكاتب “الأعمال الخيرية الموجهة للإستهلاك” ب—فئة من الأعمال الخيرية التي تسترشد بشدة بمبادئ السوق دون إشراك منتج إستهلاكي.خلافا” لحملات شن الشراء للتبرع (التي يتم فيها التبرع الخيري عندما يتم شراء منتج إستهلاكي)، الأعمال الخيرية الموجهة للإستهلاك لا تتطلب شراء سلعة للربح. بدلا” من ذلك، الأعمال الخيرية الموجهة للإستهلاك تعيد صياغة متلقي المعونات أو المساعدات الخيرية نفسها في سلع رمزية. من خلال إعادة صياغة المساعدات الخيرية كتجربة زائفة للتسوق، مع ذلك، إستهلاك يوجهه مرشدي العمل الخيري في مجموعة مختلفة تماما” من القيم، التوقعات، المنطق التي تشكل الطريقة التي المانحين يفهموا ويشتركوا في العطاء الخيري.
Introduction
The Canadian charitable and non-profit sector is one of the largest in the world, accounting for over 7 % of the country’s GDP (Statistics Canada 2009). With government funding declining in both stability and monetary value in this era of neoliberalism and philanthrocapitalism, non-profits are increasingly turning to their for-profit business counterparts for fundraising strategies and ideas (Bajde 2013; Cameron and Haanstra 2008; Eikenberry 2009; McGoey 2015; Wirgau et al. 2010). This rise in philanthrocapitalism—the idea that charities should emulate businesses and that businesses can profit from philanthropy (Bishop and Green 2009)—is often considered to be driven by rich corporate philanthropists like Warren Buffett and by private foundations like the Carnegie Foundation or Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation (see Edwards 2010; McGoey 2015), but as I aim to show in this article, many charitable organizations have also willingly embraced business values and ideals. At the same time, companies like Revlon and The Gap have been criticized for acting out of self-interest when partnering with charities to sell special edition products (e.g. King 2006; Wirgau et al. 2010). In fact, it is likely these accusations that companies are more interested in profits than altruism that have pushed charitable organizations to seek out alternative but still business-oriented ways to raise funds. This alternative mode of philanthropy is what I call “consumption-oriented philanthropy”a—a form of charitable giving that emulates the consumer shopping experience but removes the consumer product by reformulating aid recipients or charitable aid itself into symbolic commodities. Despite the absence of a consumer product or service, however, consumption-oriented philanthropy is still built on the logic and values of capitalism. The purpose of this article is to examine the defining characteristics of consumption-oriented philanthropy and to provide a critical assessment of this free-market approach to charitable aid.
In addition to defining consumption-oriented philanthropy, I examine two charity campaigns from World Vision Canada as examples of consumption-oriented philanthropy. World Vision Canada is the Canadian arm of the humanitarian aid charity World Vision which aims to alleviate poverty globally. In this article, I provide a close reading of World Vision Canada’s annual charity gift catalogue—which represents humanitarian aid as “products” in a catalogue—and also examine World Vision Canada’s child sponsorship website to demonstrate the extent to which the language and logic of business informs the practice of consumption-oriented philanthropy.
Theoretical Background
Despite claims that the recent surge of philanthrocapitalism is a revolutionary phenomenon, marrying business approaches with non-profit endeavours is not new (McGoey 2015; The Economist 2006); rather, what is unprecedented is the scale of philanthrocapitalism and the extent to which its proponents unabashedly celebrate their profit motive (McGoey 2015). According to Michael Green and Matthew Bishop (2009), philanthrocapitalism can be understood as: at the micro-level, philanthropy that mirrors business practices such that philanthropists “invest” not only money but expertise in building infrastructure, encouraging innovation, etc. and at the macro-level, the recognition that capitalism itself can be philanthropic and conversely, that philanthropy can increase profit. Using their definition, it seems reasonable to retroactively apply the term “philanthrocapitalism” to market-inspired approaches to philanthropy that have existed before the nomenclature. As such, we might consider phenomena such as social enterprises, employer-supported giving programmes, and purchase-triggered philanthropy (see note c for examples of each) to fall under the philanthrocapitalism umbrella. Although often thought of as corporate initiatives, philanthrocapitalism can also be initiated by non-profit organizations, as in the case of charity-run thrift shops (social enterprise).
The focus of this article is on the category of consumption-oriented philanthropy which is closely related to purchase-triggered philanthropy. In the following sections, I conceptualize what constitutes purchase-triggered philanthropy and consumption-oriented philanthropy.
Purchase-Triggered Philanthropy
For-profit purchase-triggered philanthropy, commonly referred to as, or as an example of, cause-related marketing, generally involves a third party for-profit company borrowing the name of a non-profit organization to generate sales, usually in the form of a co-branded product. Purchasing a Pink Ribbon Kitchenaid mixer, for example, means that a percentage of the proceeds will be donated to a breast cancer charity, while buying a pair of Toms shoes prompts the company to give a similar pair of shoes to someone in need. Another form of purchase-triggered philanthropy consists of charitable organizations producing and selling their own merchandise (often branded with their own logo as a means to create awareness), keeping all of the proceeds for the organization.
Purchase-triggered philanthropy is not only built on the visible act of commodity consumption but just as importantly, on the less visible values of consumer culture. Jessica Wirgau et al. (2010) assert that cause-related marketing is founded upon at least three key assumptions: (1) that there is a lack of awareness of the needs of people seeking aid; (2) that awareness will prompt people to take action through consumption because it is the easiest solution; and (3) that the market is a capable and appropriate medium to administer or provide aid.
These three assumptions are at the heart of many critiques of cause-related marketing or purchase-triggered philanthropy. First, critics argue that companies use the goal of raising awareness as a means to justify the small percentage of revenue that is donated to a charity (see King 2006; Littler 2009). Second, while consumption (shopping) may indeed be a very convenient form of action for many people, it also gives rise to a number of contradictions when mixed with a profit motive. Samantha King (2006) for example, documents the irony of Revlon sponsoring a breast cancer charity walk given that many Revlon products contain known carcinogens. This leads us to the third point made by Wirgau et. al (2010) that cause-related marketing positions the marketplace as an ideal authority on solving social issues, even while deeply contradictory cases like Revlon’s charitable sponsorship suggest otherwise. On a more fundamental level, scholars argue that relying on the market to produce solutions to social issues—usually through purchasable commodities—is particularly problematic for causes like environmental protection and poverty reduction, because it grossly ignores the role that overconsumption and the structural inequality of the capitalist system have played in contributing to these issues in the first place (Edwards 2010; Livingstone 2013; McGoey 2015; Nickel and Eikenberry 2009).
Consumption-Oriented Philanthropy
Unlike purchase-triggered philanthropy, consumption-oriented philanthropy removes the consumer product altogether by reformulating the needs and stories of aid recipients as symbolic commodities. Instead of selling a pink-coloured frying pan, for example, a charity “sells” 1) a tangible representation of aid (such as a goat) or 2) the story of person in need, who often serves as a representative of all aid recipients. World Vision Canada’s gift catalogue is a prime example of consumption-oriented philanthropy. “Products” in the catalogue range from livestock and fruit trees to saving child soldiers—all of which are represented in the language and style of a consumer product, complete with prices, product codes, and descriptors like “Top Seller!”
Although many of the “products” in World Vision Canada’s gift catalogue involve a physical object that is exchanged for money, I consider “products” like goats to be symbolic commodities because the goat simply serves as the material representation of the family’s need for food and income. In fact, the “price” of the goat in the gift catalogue actually covers much more than cost of procuring the animal. As the World Vision Canada gift catalogue explains in fine print, “[g]ifts of livestock and agricultural products may also support programs that provide education in animal husbandry, sanitation, training, and business skills to help families increase their income over the long term so their children can have brighter futures” (2014 World Vision Canada catalogue; similarly worded explanations appear in each catalogue). Thus, the donor is not purchasing the goat so much as providing charitable aid that involves a goat. Nonetheless, it is the animal that is displayed as the catalogue “product”.d
Consumption-oriented philanthropy is also more restricted than purchase-triggered donations in terms of who can initiate such campaigns. Purchase-triggered donation campaigns may be initiated by both for-profit businesses (e.g. Pink Ribbon Kitchenaid products) and non-profit organizations (e.g. SPCA tote bags). Consumption-oriented philanthropy, meanwhile, can only be spearheaded by non-profit organizations. In fact, largely what makes consumption-oriented philanthropy novel and attractive to donors is that it removes the profit motive from for-profit purchase-triggered donations and reduces the overhead costs (for manufacturing goods) associated with non-profit purchase-triggered donations.
While consumption-oriented philanthropy may ease some concerns, it remains deeply rooted in the logic of capitalism. In fact, consumption-oriented philanthropy is still based on many of the same assumptions that are the foundation of cause-related marketing or purchase-triggered philanthropy. First, although awareness plays a small role in consumption-oriented philanthropy, the concept of consumption as social or political action still figures heavily. The World Vision Canada gift catalogue is a prime example of idealizing the transformative power of consumption—that is, the basic premise of the charity gift catalogue is that donors can “shop for change”. Thus, donors are offered an array of tangible items—goats, chickens, fruit trees—which they can “purchase” for a family in need. Second, the catalogue is so invested in the idea that consumption is the most attractive and convenient type of action for donors that it does not shy away from representing child victims as the “product”—for instance, the catalogue indicates that for $75, a donor can help restore exactly one child soldier or for double the price, help restore two child soldiers. This “product” of rescuing children from conditions of abuse is, moreover, presented visually in the same manner as any other “product” in the catalogue with prices and product codes for each “quantity” and a compelling image.
The following analysis of World Vision Canada’s charity gift catalogue and child sponsorship website offers a detailed look at examples of consumption-oriented philanthropy. This research seeks to identify the physical characteristics (images, written text, design layout etc.) of these two texts that qualify them as consumption-oriented philanthropy as well as to explore the ideological narrative of charitable giving to which these texts contribute.
Methodology
Charity gift catalogues and child sponsorship pamphlets are often overlooked as simply pieces of junk mail, but I approach them, instead, as cultural texts. As Stuart Hall (2013) explains, culture is made up of shared meanings between any given group, and these shared meanings are created, molded, and challenged through the language of representation. These shared meanings not only serve a symbolic function; they shape everyday conduct and practices (Hall 2013). In analyzing and interpreting the meaning of these texts, I consider discourse as a social product which reflects the broader ideological context in which it was produced (Ruiz 2009). This type of sociological interpretation involves asking why certain discourses or ideas have been produced and what social conditions have allowed for their emergence (Ruiz 2009). Thus, the aim of the previous sections has been to contextualize consumption-oriented philanthropy within the larger pro-market ideology of philanthrocapitalism and to define the characteristics of consumption-oriented philanthropy.
For the gift catalogue, I studied the hard copy versions of the 2009 through 2014 issues that are normally distributed to donors through the mail. At the time that I was collecting data, these five issues were the most recent issues that were available to me. During my initial review of the publications, it became apparent that the majority of the “products” in the catalogues are repeated year after year with similar—sometimes even verbatim—descriptions. However, certain examples of business-oriented language or logic appear in some issues and not others, and by studying 5 years’ worth of publications, I was able to analyze a wider range of examples without simply looking at, for example, five iterations of the same “product”. Moreover, the goal of this research is not to create a cross-comparison of the five publications, but rather, to use this set of catalogues to illustrate the characteristics of consumption-oriented philanthropy. For the World Vision Canada child sponsorship campaign, I focused on the website instead of printed materials because the website contains significantly more data than what is found in the corresponding printed materials (i.e. there are over 1000 profiles of children who are waiting for a sponsor on the website). Using a hybrid approach of identifying both pre-set and emergent themes that relate to consumption-oriented philanthropy, I examined the written text first, followed by an analysis of visual design elements. Pre-set themes included shopping-related vocabulary (e.g. “free”, “gift with purchase”, “add to basket”) and the importance of donor choice (e.g. abundance of options, “select a child”). Themes that emerged during my initial analysis included references to entrepreneurial potential, shopping as action, and “product” popularity.
This critical analysis of how philanthropy is being commodified is neither meant to vilify any particular charitable cause nor is it a nostalgic lament for the way things used to be. Rather, it is an opportunity to understand consumption-oriented philanthropy not just as a clever appeal to a consumerism-hungry society but instead, as what Domen Bajde (2013) describes as an “ideological retelling of poverty and philanthropy”e (p. 13), one that subtly prescribes the right and wrong ways to address social issues.
About World Vision Canada
Although many Canadian charitable organizations publish consumption-oriented charity gift catalogues each year (Charity Intelligence Canada 2014), I chose to study World Vision Canada’s catalogues in particular because of the charity’s size and global profile. Between 2011 and 2013, World Vision Canada’s annual revenue ranged from $390 million to $399 million (Canada Revenue Agency), making it the nation’s largest international children’s aid organization both in terms of staff size and fundraising revenue (Imagine Canada 2013). World Vision Canada is a regional division of World Vision, a Christian humanitarian organization. According to their websites, World Vision provides aid in over 100 countries in the global North and global South, while its Canadian division serves roughly 48 countries (the number fluctuates). Founded in the 1950s, World Vision Canada helps recipients in financial need of all ages, races, and religions but their marketing often focuses on helping children in the global South.
World Vision was one of the first organizations to introduce a charity gift catalogue, publishing its inaugural issue in 2002. In 2010, the World Vision Canada projected a revenue of over $20 million from its gift catalogue alone (Scrivener 2010). Meanwhile, World Vision Canada’s child sponsorship program is the most lucrative and perhaps the most recognizable campaign for the organization. The charity gift catalogue and child sponsorship program operate concurrently.
Analysis
The Look and Feel of Retail Shopping
The five World Vision Canada catalogues that I studied often included the same “products” and images year after year. In cases where a “product” appeared in multiple catalogues, the accompanying description was usually similar across all the catalogues (sometimes even verbatim). Many of the design elements used in the catalogues are clearly meant to replicate conventions used in (for-profit) retail catalogues. Each “product” listed in the catalogue is given a numerical product code, a description, and price. The price, moreover, is often listed for different quantities of the “product”. For instance, a sheep is listed for $150 while two sheep are listed for $300. Although the World Vision Canada gift catalogue does not offer discounts for higher quantities purchased (as a retail catalogue might do), I think it is fair to say that displaying the price of “products” in this way is meant to echo the practice of multi-volume pricing in retail environments. The catalogue also includes a tear-out mail order for donors to check off the boxes next to the items that they wish to “purchase”. Each of the “products” in the catalogue is given a numerical four-digit code which corresponds to the “product” code listed on the mail order form. The online version of the catalogue is even configured so that a donor types in the “quantity” of a “product” before clicking the “Add to Basket” button. There are also testimonials scattered throughout the pages of the catalogue—which serve the same function as product reviews—from celebrities, donors, and recipients who praise World Vision Canada and specifically its gift catalogue and “products” within it.
In addition to design elements, the catalogue also borrows the vocabulary and style of language often associated with retail environments. Donors are explicitly asked to “shop” from the catalogue (as opposed to “donate”) as a way to help people in need. Because the printed catalogue is released every Christmas, the catalogue encourages donors to give the “products” as gifts to loved ones in the same way that they might purchase an item from a Sears catalogue for a loved one. The tear-out mail order form stapled into each of the five catalogues includes an additional offer of a “FREE Greeting Cards with every order” (emphasis in the original) with the word “free” displayed in a larger font than the rest of the text. All the catalogues also feature the option to purchase a gift card so that a donor can allow his/her loved one to spend the value of the gift card to choose “products” from the catalogue. Select “products” in the catalogue are also visually highlighted with words like “New!”, “Great Gift for Dad”, “Top Seller”, and “9x the value” that are often set in a different font or housed in a brightly coloured circle to emphasize the images they are describing as “products”.
Income-Generation Potential
Thematically, many of the “products” in the catalogue are described in a way that emphasizes the business-building potential of that particular item, suggesting that the “product” will allow its recipient to generate self-sustaining income. For example, a description for a dairy cow explains that “[d]airy cows are a hefty source of nutrition AND can help launch a healthy business…. Best of all, a cow can breed a herd of calves over a lifetime—so a family can start their own dairy farm” (2009 World Vision Canada catalogue; similar description in the 2013 version). Similarly, another description reads “Two hens and a rooster can produce up to 150 eggs a year…to provide a continual supply of nutritious food and essential income. Give wings to a family’s dreams with this wonderful gift” (2009 and 2012 World Vision Canada catalogues; similar description in the 2014 issue). The description for beehives explains that “[a] successful small business can be the key to a better life” (2009 World Vision Canada catalogue). In fact, in all the catalogues, this emphasis on income generation and self-sustaining entrepreneurship is consistent across all livestock “products”, agricultural “products” such as fruit trees, as well as artisan craftsf made by people in the recipient countries. Every issue of the gift catalogue that I studied was also front-loaded with these types of “products”, while non-income-generating “products” like immunizing children, buying school books, and saving children from exploitative labour did not appear before the eighth page of any of the catalogues (total page count ranged from 20 to 30 pages). By privileging “products” with entrepreneurial potential, the catalogue quietly reproduces the narrative that one can pull oneself out of any bad situation through hard work (in the marketplace), which is congruent with the principles and ideals of capitalism and philanthrocapitalism.
Shopping as Action
Throughout the gift catalogue and child sponsorship website, there is a noticeable absence of any suggestion of other types of philanthropic activity such as volunteering or organizing politically for policy change. For instance, even while the catalogue features personal anecdotes from celebrities who have travelled overseas to volunteer for World Vision Canada, the catalogue only ever asks to donor to “shop”. In one testimonial from singer Tom Cochrane, he writes: “I helped distribute gifts from the World Vision Gift Catalogue to villages in Africa….And you can be a part of it simply by shopping from this catalogue” (emphasis added; 2009 World Vision catalogue). In this quotation, “shopping” from the catalogue is proffered as a way of taking part in someone else’s volunteer efforts. Without denying that voluntourismg can be a problematic colonialist activity, the point here is that the gift catalogue privileges “shopping” over other forms of philanthropic activity (e.g. volunteering, making a general donation, organizing politically to help others). This therefore obscures the possibility of alternative or supplementary forms of action for social change. Although the representation of aid as shopping is somewhat extreme in the World Vision Canada gift catalogue, it is important to remember that this is not a singular example of placing consumption above all other forms of philanthropic action. Rather, as mentioned earlier, this privileging of consumption over other forms of action is part of the fundamental ideology of purchase-triggered philanthropy (Wirgau et al. 2010), and as has been shown now, of consumption-oriented philanthropy. We must therefore understand these two phenomena as vehicles that promote consumption as social action at the expense of other forms of philanthropic and political activity. The result, in Henri Giroux’s (1993) words, is a “[pr]ivatization of one’s response to social events…translat[ing] the possibility of agency to the privatized act of buying goods rather than engaging forms of self and social determination” (p. 22).
Logic and Values of Consumerism
Similar to purchase-triggered philanthropy, consumption-oriented philanthropy idealizes the marketplace as an appropriate site for resolving social issues. In so doing, it also reinforces the values of consumerism—namely freedom of choice—as legitimate and important within the philanthropic arena.
World Vision Canada’s child sponsorship website uses less explicitly shopping-oriented language than the gift catalogue (since it does not pretend to be a catalogue), but the design of the website still suggests a consumption-oriented mode of philanthropy. In particular, the website seems to heavily privilege the importance of choice—at the time of this study, a donor could read through 1953 profiles of different children in need of a sponsor (the number fluctuates), learning about each child’s favourite hobby and family life through a combination of text, images, and video. It’s important to note that World Vision Canada’s website explains that when a donor “sponsors a child”, a single designated child will correspond with the donor for as long as the sponsorship continues, but the donor’s money will be pooled with that of other donors to support a larger group of children rather than only that particular childh. Nonetheless, the child sponsorship program and its website continue to emphasize the freedom of the donor to choose which child to sponsor, going as far as to encourage them to browse through almost 2000 profiles. Donors can even select a child based on his/her exact date of birth, gender, age, and/or country of residence using a series of drop-down menus.
This abundance of choice can also be observed in World Vision Canada’s charity gift catalogue and other consumption-oriented philanthropic campaignsi. Implicit in this celebration of choice is the idea that—as in the for-profit market—the person with the money (the donor or the consumer) knows best. He/she is deemed to be the appropriate person to select what “product(s)” an unspecified family needs and which child is most worthy of monthly financial support through sponsorship. It is of course implied that the non-profit organization has performed the initial legwork of screening the recipients to ensure that he/she qualifies for aid, but the donor is still positioned as if he/she is the final arbiterd. In fact, the language and structure used in consumption-oriented philanthropic appeals often emphasize the importance of the donor’s selection process in different ways. First, by offering so many “product” options, the donor almost has no choice but to engage in the equivalent of comparison shopping. The gift catalogue and child sponsorship website further facilitate and encourage donors to compare one “product” or child against others by presenting information about each “product” or child in a standardized way (for example, every child answers the same questions for their biography). Basic human needs like food, water, and education thus become subjected to a pseudo-popularity contest. Second, consumption-oriented philanthropy often employs phrases such as “select a child to sponsor” (child sponsorship website), and “find the perfect gift!” (gift catalogue) (emphasis added) to highlight the role of the donor in choosing his/her preferred option.
In addition to encouraging comparison “shopping” of human needs, the World Vision Canada gift catalogue asserts the legitimacy of donor choice by emphasizing the popularity of certain products. The World Vision Canada gift catalogue highlights certain “products” as “Best Sellers” or “Top Picks”, presumably as a means to validate that “product” as a smart choice for donors. And yet, the label “Best Seller” has little to do with utility of the “product” or whether it is in high demand; it only indicates that the item is a popular choice among previous donors—donors who, it should be emphasized, likely do not have first-hand experience of the geographically specific conditions of poverty and inequality that afflict the recipients. Nonetheless, consumption-oriented philanthropy suggests to the donor that he/she is a capable and appropriate judged of what is needed most by recipients.
Abstraction and Equivalence
When charitable aid and its recipients are transformed and playfully represented as symbolic commodities, a certain level of erasure or equivalence takes place. Marx (1865) describes exchange value as an abstraction of use value, and it is through this process of abstraction that disparate use values can come to equivalence and therefore be exchanged in the marketplace. In other words, abstraction converts the qualitative characteristics of different items (characteristics that determine the use value) into quantitative terms (exchange value) to facilitate exchange. Returning to World Vision Canada’s child sponsorship example, for $39 a month, a donor can sponsor any one of the almost 2000 children featured on the website because all of the children have been brought to symbolic equivalence. From a consumer point of view, this equivalence likely feels quite natural—after all, when shopping for a sweater online, it is not unusual to be able to browse through different size and colour options, all with the same price tag. In much the same way, the over 1,900 children who are spread across over 40 different countries and who have individual stories and circumstances that contributed to their life of poverty, all that is abstracted into an exchange value that, without necessarily making them identical, makes them interchangeable.
Commodification, moreover, does more than create symbolic commodities; as Marx (1865) observed, it creates a topsy-turvy world in which social relations emerge between inanimate objects while material relations exist between people. In the catalogue, human needs are translated into material solutions that have been assigned a price. For example, a donor is asked to purchase “Two hens and a rooster” for $150 to help alleviate the hunger of a family. Here, both poverty and charitable giving, which are social relations of inequality between the donor and recipient, are translated into, and replaced by, a material “product” in a catalogue. By virtue of assigning an exchange value (in this case, a dollar value) to these “products”, the social relations hidden beneath the material goods manifest, instead, as different price points between various “products”. Conversely, the gift catalogue encourages material relations between people: the ability to help a fellow human being is framed in terms of the material goods that a donor can “purchase”. Even rescuing children from deplorable conditions like sex trafficking becomes a quantified “product”. Thus, the World Vision Canada gift catalogue commodifies charitable aid in a way that creates contradictory relations between people and inanimate things.
Discussion
Without discounting the popularity and large sums of money that have been raised through World Vision Canada’s charity gift catalogue and child sponsorship website, there is a need to understand the broader implications of consumption-oriented philanthropy. Relative to even its own (offline) child sponsorship program which dates back to the 1950s, World Vision Canada’s charity gift catalogue and child sponsorship website are fairly new fundraising tools. As such, it is likely that we have yet to fully grasp their long-term influence on donor behaviour (engagement and expectations).
To be sure, there are practical reasons for which many charitable organizations have arrived at this mode of representation to solicit donors. World Vision Canada provides biographies of the children so that donors can feel a human connection and develop a kinship towards children who are geographically and often culturally distant. Moreover, the children are likely asked standardized biographical questions (e.g. name, age, favourite subject) to facilitate efficient information gathering and distribution. Meanwhile, the charity gift catalogue gives donors an opportunity to have a supposed say in how their donation is spent. All these choices seem like pragmatic decisions from the standpoint of the organization. And yet, what may appear as practical to the organization may also invite particular behaviour from donors. It would be interesting to study, for instance, the characteristics of children (gender, fair skin/dark skin, age, facial features) who are more likely to be chosen by Canadian donors. An even simpler question is to determine whether having a photograph and/or video (some children’s photos are omitted) affects the likelihood of a child being selected. Ironically, it likely does not matter too much to World Vision Canada if particular children are chosen over others since the money is pooled to help multiple kids. The children, therefore, simply serve as an aestheticized means to attract donors. But in so doing, World Vision Canada encourages donors to hand-pick their sponsored child based on aesthetics, consumer values, and personal preference—a practice that, in the long term, may build up a donor’s expectation of how charitable giving should look and feel not only with regards to World Vision Canada but other organizations as well.
The expectation of a shopping-like experience can have equally problematic consequences for the gift catalogue. By shifting focus away from the aid recipients onto “products”, the gift catalogue collapses the recipients’ individual circumstances into a single narrative of a life that can be vastly improved or even saved by a goat or a pair of chickens. The “products” in the catalogue thus seem as if they are universal “solutions”, miraculously suited to the varied climates of the over 40 countries in which World Vision Canada operates. Nowhere in the catalogue is there a “product” that even tangentially addresses the complex interplay of racial, gender, and other systemic inequalities that exacerbate conditions of poverty, nor is there any hint that such factors exist. Roberta Hawkins (2016) suggests that this tendency to over-simplify complex development issues is common to many cause-related marketing campaigns. Thus, it is only in the fine print that World Vision Canada acknowledges that certain livestock and agricultural “products” may not be available or appropriate for particular regions. On its website, World Vision Canada explains that communities decide which “products” are most appropriate for their population. The question then is whether World Vision Canada spends the donation on a suitable alternative for a particular regionj or if those who live in regions where “Best Sellers” are not suited simply lose out. While it is not within the scope of this project to probe World Vision Canada’s distribution practices, this research is concerned with the representation of how charitable aid is administered. From the perspective of representation, what is problematic is that the catalogue’s “sales pitch” to the donor revolves around the merits of the “product”, while the recipient—outshone by the appeal of a goat or a beehive—is reduced to a mere variation in the fine print or FAQ section.
This analysis has focused on two World Vision Canada campaigns in particular, but consumption-oriented philanthropy is not limited to World Vision Canada. Charity gift catalogues are now a common fundraising tool—especially amongst humanitarian aid organizations (see Charity Intelligence Canada 2014)—and the shopping-like approach to helping people in need has expanded to crowdfunding and non-profit fundraising sites like Kiva, gofundme, and Youcaring. It is not possible to predict how many other examples of consumption-oriented philanthropy will emerge in the future, but it is important to ask questions about how consumption-oriented philanthropy might shape the future of philanthropy. For instance, will the charity gift catalogue’s privileging of tangible representations of charitable aid make it more challenging for other non-profits to raise funds for causes that are more difficult to associate with tangible items (e.g. mentoring at-risk youth, rape relief, cancer research)? Is there a risk that consumption-oriented philanthropy is cultivating donors to behave like consumers when engaging in philanthropy in the long term, and if so, what are the responsibilities of these pseudo-consumers to society (in comparison to the responsibilities of a donor or a citizen to society)? By injecting the logic and values of capitalism and consumer culture into charitable giving, consumption-oriented philanthropy triggers the need to ask a broad range of questions.
While I do not pretend to have the solution to help charitable organizations avoid the pitfalls of consumption-oriented philanthropy, what I can suggest is that further embedding donors and aid recipients into the folds of capitalism is not the answer. Patricia Nickel and Angela Eikenberry (2009) argue that the power of philanthropy to transform society lies in maintaining a critical distance between capitalism and philanthropy. Consumption-oriented philanthropy does the very opposite of this: even while removing the profit motive, consumption-oriented philanthropy encourages donors to evaluate and make charitable donations as if they were shopping. The novelty of being able to “shop” from a charity catalogue of “Best Sellers” or browse through thousands of children’s profiles distracts from a recognition of capitalism as a source of global inequality rather than a solution to it (see Edwards 2010; Livingstone 2013; McGoey 2015; Nickel and Eikenberry 2009). Instead, I suggest that charitable organizations need to recognize and play upon their own strengths: compelling stories, relationships between people, and human kindness. But as World Vision Canada’s own child sponsorship program demonstrates, highlighting the human aspect of charitable giving can easily lead to the trap of commodification and the creation of a pseudo-popularity contest. This not only highlights the complexity of the issue but also to the extent to which the logic of competition is engrained in our way of thinking. Indeed, it may be that it is because a critical distance between philanthropy and capitalism is currently lacking that we struggle to imagine alternatives to consumption-oriented philanthropy.
Conclusion
The shift towards philanthrocapitalism has been driven not only by wealthy business people and private foundations but also by charitable organizations. The focus of this research has been on consumption-oriented philanthropy, which I have situated as a sub-type of philanthrocapitalism that is initiated by non-profits. Unlike purchase-triggered philanthropy, consumption-oriented philanthropy reconfigures charitable aid and its recipients as symbolic commodities—organized and aestheticized to facilitate pseudo-comparison shopping and to conform to the values of the marketplace. An analysis of World Vision’s Canada’s charity gift catalogues reveals that this type of consumption-oriented philanthropy borrows from the design, vocabulary, and style of for-profit retail environments. Meanwhile, even without the superfluous additions of a product code or “Best Seller” label, choosing a child to sponsor from World Vision Canada’s website feels eerily like shopping. By commodifying charitable aid and its recipients, consumption-oriented philanthropy has the tendency to render human relations and individual needs as equivalent, such that the decision to feed or vaccinate a child feels merely like an exercise of consumer choice.
Although I take a critical approach to analyzing charity catalogues, this work should not be read as a criticism of any particular charitable organization, nor even of charitable work in general. However, it is important to understand that equating philanthropy to shopping is more than just a playful metaphor. The gift catalogue and other forms of consumption-oriented philanthropy set up an ideological narrative of how to best enact philanthropy. This message, moreover, not only affects donors at an individual level but contributes to the larger cultural and social meaning of philanthropy. As Henri Lefebvre observes, “[c]ommodities do not assert themselves qua things but rather qua a kind of logic” (cited in Goldman and Papson 1996, p. 19). Thus, it does not matter that the World Vision Canada gift catalogue is a metaphorical representation of shopping rather than a true marketplace because the logic of the commodity still permeates the environment. The result is that the very act of helping a fellow human being is transformed into a shopping-like experience. This quietly reinforces the idea that one can and should “shop for change” and that the marketplace (even within a mock shopping catalogue) is the best and most effective site through which to achieve this change. While consumption-oriented philanthropy may alleviate some of the concerns around purchase-triggered philanthropy, consumption-oriented philanthropy represents an important shift in the conception of charitable giving—how it is perceived, understood, and experienced by donors.
Notes
a.
Throughout this article, I utilize scare quotes around terms such as “product” and “shopping” when referring to World Vision’s gift catalogue to signal my discomfort with this attempt to equate philanthropy with consumer shopping.
b.
There is one instance in which Samantha King (2006) uses the term “consumption-oriented philanthropy” in her book Pink Ribbons Inc. but her use of the term corresponds to what I refer to as “purchase-triggered philanthropy”. Similarly, Patricia M. Nickel and Angela M. Eikenberry (2009) utilize the term “consumption philanthropy” to also describe what I classify as “purchase-triggered philanthropy” rather than “consumption-oriented philanthropy”. I clarify the difference that I perceive between these two phenomena by offering my own definitions in this article.
c.
Examples: Social enterprises: Salvation Army thrift store, Free the Children’s for-profit Me to We store.
Employer-support giving programmes: Nestlé Canada makes a charitable donation whenever its employees volunteer a minimum number of hours; Salesforce matches employee donations up to a designated maximum.
Purchase-triggered philanthropy: Starbucks donates five cents from every purchase of its Ethos bottled water to support water-stressed countries.
d.
There is some ambiguity as to how closely World Vision Canada adheres to donors’ choice of “products”. For example, next to the offering for “Two hens and a rooster”, all five issues of the catalogue indicate in fine print: “[i]n countries where chickens are not appropriate or available, World Vision will provide poultry such as turkeys, ducks, doves or other fowl that can be raised and bred to help a family achieve self-reliance”. Since World Vision Canada provides aid to nearly 50 nations worldwide, some “products” and even their alternatives will not be suitable for all of the recipient countries. Thus, unless World Vision completely defies the donors’ choice of “product” by using money for a goat, for example, to instead buy school books for city children (and the fine print does not suggest that this happens), then it is the donor who is largely in control of what items will be supplied, and by extension, which countries will receive aid. See also note j.
e.
Bajde uses this phrase to describe the business-driven logic of the charitable organization Kiva, which uses a crowdfunding model to raise micro-loans for people living in poverty. Bajde’s thoughtful analysis of Kiva renders it unnecessary for me to study Kiva in-depth as an example of consumption-oriented philanthropy, but I consider his phrase to be an apt description of World Vision Canada’s gift catalogue and child sponsorship website as well of consumption-oriented philanthropy in general.
f.
Unlike symbolic “products” in the catalogue, artisan handcrafts and fair-trade coffee beans are the only real products that donors can purchase and receive for him/herself. Even though they are contained within the gift catalogue, I do not consider these two items to be an example of consumption-oriented philanthropy.
g.
Voluntourism is the practice of travelling to a different country (often in the global South) in order to engage in some form of volunteer activity, such as building a school or houses for people in need. While voluntourism remains a popular activity, there is growing criticism of the practice, including ethical concerns over the high cost of travel, the unskilled labour of the participants, and the reinforcement of colonial power relations (see Smith 2014).
h.
In its early iterations, the money that donors contributed was allocated specifically to their sponsored child; however, academic and public critique soon emerged citing issues of jealousy and inequality that resulted from the direct sponsorship model (see Cooper 2014). This prompted World Vision (and other similar charities) to modify its programme so that sponsorship money is now mostly pooled and shared amongst multiple families, but donors still have the opportunity to communicate with one specific child who acts as an ‘ambassador’ for the program (Cooper 2014).
i.
For example, charitable microfinance websites like Kiva—which is a form of consumption-oriented philanthropy—is also built on the premise that lenders (donors) get to choose exactly which project(s) to fund out thousands of options.
j.
World Vision Canada representative Caroline Roseboro confirmed to a news reporter in 2010 that “[n]inety-nine per cent of the time we try to deliver on the actual item that is bought [by the donor]” (see Scrivener 2010) The inclusion of the word “try” makes the statement somewhat unclear.
Notes
Acknowledgments
The author wishes to thank and acknowledge the anonymous reviewers, Courtney Szto, SFU Research Commons, and her thesis committee members for helping to improve this piece of research.
Funding
This research was supported by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada (GSX0118).
Compliance with Ethical Standards
Conflict of Interest
The authors declare that they have no conflict of interest.
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Cite this article as:
Li, V. Voluntas (2017) 28: 455. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11266-016-9801-5
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