Stop Passing the Tin Cup: Why Nonprofits Need a Culture of Philanthropy, Not Charity

Yesterday I found myself (once again) deep in the pulpit, preaching the gospel of nonprofit self-worth. The sermon? It’s time to break up with the “charity” mentality and embrace a culture of philanthropy.

Yes, the IRS still uses the word “charity” in its dusty tax code to describe 501(c)(3)s, and no, we’re not holding our breath for a rebrand. But let’s be very clear: just because you’re legally a charity does not mean you should run your organization like one.

You’re a business. Your product is impact. And the nonprofit status? That’s just your tax classification, not your entire personality.

Yet for far too long, nonprofits have internalized this charity mindset like it’s a virtue. You know the one:

• “We should work long hours for little pay, because the mission matters more.”

• “Self-care is for corporate folks—we’re here to sacrifice.”

• “Let’s not spend money on staff or systems, because overhead is bad.”

• “Every dollar must go ‘directly to the client,’ even if it breaks our staff in the process.”

It’s a poverty mindset dressed up as purpose. And it’s killing the very organizations trying to save the world.

This mentality doesn’t just hurt your team—it warps your donor relationships too. Instead of inviting donors to invest in a solution to a social problem, we end up begging them to “help us do XYZ,” with a barely concealed subtext of please save us from insolvency.

We pass the tin cup and wonder why no one is taking us seriously.

But let me offer a reframe:

A culture of philanthropy says that our mission is the solution to a real societal problem. That we are inviting people to invest in change. That our team deserves to be paid well, supported fully, and celebrated publicly—not just tolerated while we squeeze the life out of them “for the cause.”

This isn’t fluff. It’s infrastructure. Healthy teams build effective programs. Supported staff stay longer. When you run your nonprofit like a high-functioning business—with strategy, care, and smart investment—everybody wins.

And yes, this is why board members matter so damn much. Because when they give their time and money, they’re putting skin in the game. They’re saying, “We believe in this solution so much, we’re investing in it. Not for a personal payout, but for a community one.”

That’s what we’re building. That’s what we’re asking donors to join. Not a rescue mission for our budget, but a movement toward something bigger.

So let’s stop leading with desperation. Stop romanticizing burnout. Stop apologizing for wanting thriving teams and well-run organizations.

And for heaven’s sake—stop passing the tin cup.