This year I have set myself a challenge. I’m 58 and within sight of that ‘retirement’ finishing line which, mysteriously, is coming up more quickly even as I’m slowing down. The challenge is to set up a fund-raising ‘machine’ that continues to operate, and prosper for the sake of the rural students we support, even if I’m run over by the retirement bus.
Fund raising. I wonder who enjoys it? I think one reason I don’t enjoy it – despite having a great cause to support – is that it fundamentally leads to a lot of people losing face. By asking you for a thousand dollars I risk that awkward moment of having a friend or acquaintance saying, “No, sorry.” They feel awkward, I feel awkward.
A second problem is, I think, the way requests for money are framed. An out of the blue request for $50 seems like an imposition: an unexpected expense. Yet if you were buying a new car and the salesman said, look – the sports-styled magnesium cup holder will cost an extra $50 – then, well to hell with it! What’s an extra $50 when you’re already investing $40k? It’s nothing.
I recently visited a bicycle shop near where I live and it was there I had an insight flash. A way to fund-raise that removes the face problem and the framing effect. A bicycle had caught my eye. It got me reminiscing about a great 800km journey I’d completed with friends 20 years ago and I was seduced by the weight (about 3 nano-grams) and appearance. Just beautiful. And it could be mine for a mere $4,000 which itself was a discounted price. You could buy 45 children a new bicycle each, for the same amount in Cambodia.
Yet the person who buys the $4,000 bike is not a bad person. They may be a dedicated triathlete perhaps. Or a weekend road-warrior with the dream, simply, of sailing downhill on a summery afternoon after completing a personal challenge.
So if I were to accuse them of being selfish (“How dare you buy that bike when there are needy children in Cambodia!”) I’d myself be offensive. And both of us would lose face.
But if I were to ask that bike purchaser this offer: “Hey, you’re buying a fantastic bike – instead of paying $4,000 – how about contributing an extra $50 to make a child in Cambodia equally delighted?” Now we’re talking. What’s $50? It is 1.25% and about a sixth of the price of the Italian leather saddle. And a lot more comfortable. Now the purchaser can easily opt in or not – and the amount, when framed this way, really doesn’t seem like a terrible imposition.
So there it is. My big fund-raising thought for 2014. Now I’ve got to find a few opt-in partners – starting with the bike shop. It needs to work for them too. But which bike shop can you think of would not want to spread the joy and benefits of cycling not just amongst the well-heeled west, but through the villages and muddy roads to the schools of rural Cambodia?